THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Rare  Book  Room 
GIFT  OF 

John  W,  Beckman 


/%•£/. 


THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

THE  FISHERMAN'S  BOY,  THE  AUNT  FRIENDLY 
BOOKS,  ETC. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
AMEKICAN  TRACT   SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1861,  by  O.  R. 
KINGSBURY,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New 
York. 


THE  characters  in  the  following  story 
have  been  sketched  in  the  hope  of  call 
ing  attention  to  the  interests  of  our  sea 
men,  and  of  being  useful  to  the  sailors 
themselves. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  I. 
A  Young  Sailor, - 7 

CHAPTER  II. 
Good  Samaritans, - 14 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  Family  Council , 20 

CHAPTER  IV. 
A  Discovery, -    29 

CHAPTER  V. 
ALong  Story, 37 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Blue  Flag, 46 

CHARTER  VII. 
A  Stranger, 51 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Awaking,  -~ 58 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Theodore, 62 

CHAPTER  X. 
Burnings'  Journey, 67 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Tidings, -.—- 76 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Box,  ........................................     84 

CHAPTER  XIII.  . 
The  Present,  ........  -  ...........  -  ...............  _     gO 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Companions,  .....................................     95 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The  Sick-bed,  ....................................  101 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  New  Friend,  ..................................  -109 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  Sabbath,  ....................................  119 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Almost  Home,  ....................  -  ...............  126 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Binnings  again,  .................................  136 

CHAPTER  XX. 
An  Interview,  ....................................  146 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Prayers,  .........................................  156 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Home,  ...........................................  166 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
A  Visit,  ---------  .....................  ^  ...........  177 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Conclusion.  --*  .....  -  .....  ^---  ..................  ,_  189 


THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  YOUNG  SAILOR. 

THEODORE  GOULD  was  going  to  sea. 
Theodore  was  no  scapegrace,  about  to  tie 
up  his  bundle  and  sneak  out  a  back-win 
dow,  as  a  runaway.  If  he  had  no  Chris 
tian  principle  to  keep  him  from  such  a 
mean  act,  he  was  too  truthful  and  hon 
orable  so  to  grieve  and  try  his  widowed 
mother. 

He  had  fairly  and  frankly  told  that 
mother  that  no  life  could  so  please  and 
satisfy  him  as  life  on  the  sea.  A  strange 
fancy,  it  seemed  to  her,  to  want  to  be 
always  in  the  midst  of  the  wild  roar  of 


V  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

the  ocean,  and  exposed  to  its  fierce 
storms  and  thousand  lurking  dangers. 
And  yet  she  reasoned  with  herself,  "If 
no  one  fancied  this  rough  career,  what 
would  become  of  our  commerce?  Who 
would  man  our  ships  of  war,  and  carry 
our  stars  and  stripes  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth  ?  The  very  missionaries  themselves 
could  never  tread  on  foreign  soil,  were 
there  no  strong-hearted  sailors  to  choose 
the  ocean  for  their  home.77 

Yes,  it  must  be  right  that  some  boys 
should  incline  to  this  dangerous  occupa 
tion,  and  she  would  not  withhold  her  son 
from  the  profession  of  his  choice.  True, 
her  mothers  pride  had  received  a  sad 
blow.  Theodore  had  been  first  in  his 
class  at  the  high-school,  and  praises  of 
his  manly  deportment  had  been  sound 
ing  on  all  sides.  She  had  hoped  to  see 
him  distinguish  himself  through  the  tal 
ents  with  which  she  was  sure  he  was 


A  YOUNG  SAILOR.  9 

gifted.  Well,  that  was  all  over  now. 
One  absorbing  desire  had  taken  posses 
sion  of  the  boy's  mind ;  a  sailor,  and  a 
sailor  only,  he  wished  to  be. 

Mrs.  Gould  had  no  friends  in  high 
quarters  to  win  for  her  son  a  position  in 
the  navy.  She  had  not  even  an  old  sea- 
captain  for  an  uncle  to  get  her  boy  a 
good  berth.  He  must  take  his  chance 
before  the  mast,  if  he  became  a  sailor  at 
all.  A  rough,  hard  way  of  life,  truly, 
for  a  lad  who  had  enjoyed  all  the  com 
forts  of  a  quiet  New  England  home. 

Theodore,  for  his  part,  fancied  begin 
ning  his  career  at  the  lowest  round  of  the 
ladder.  He  said  he  didn't  want  to  be 
pushed  and  bolstered;  he  preferred  to 
fight  his  own  way,  and  so  have  some  sat 
isfaction  in  his  victory. 

He  had  watched  the  packing  of  his 
chest  with  infinite  satisfaction.  Such  gar 
ments  could  belong  to  none  but  a  sailor 


10  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

He  was  beginning  to  realize  that  the  fa 
vorite  wish  of  his  heart  was  about  to  be 
fulfilled.  He  had  a  pleasure  in  talking 
bravely  of  shipwreck  and  danger,  when 
his  sister  Ella  spoke  timidly  of  what 
might  befall  him  on  the  sea. 

"  Never  fear  for  me,  Ella,"  he  said 
cheerily.  "I  feel  it  in  my  bones  that 
the  salt  water  is  to  do  me  no  harm.  You 
know  I  can  swim  like  a  fish,  and  climb 
like  a  squirrel;  and  as  to  hardship, 
there  7s  not  a  fellow  in  school  can  stand 
what  I  can." 

"May  God  preserve  you  from  dan 
ger,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Gould,  soberly 
and  sorrowfully;  "a  trust  in  his  protec 
tion  is  a  better  safeguard  than  any  hu 
man  strength." 

"It  is  natural  for  women  to  be  timid. 
I  do  n't  wonder  you  feel  as  you  do  about 
my  going,"  said  Theodore,  affectionately; 
"but  never  fear,  mother,  you'll  have  me 


A  YOUNG  SAILOR.  11 

back  again,  taller  and  browner  may  be, 
but  just  the  same  son  to  you.77 

The  boy  put  his  arm  round  his  mother 
as  he  spoke,  and  looked  tenderly  into 
her  face. 

"Dear  Theodore/7  she  said,  "much  as 
I  dread  the  dangers  of  the  sea  for  you,  I 
fear  still  more  the  influence  of  wild,  reck 
less  companions.  How  could  I  bear  to 
see  you  a  poor  dissipated  creature,  like 
too  many  sailors  who  disgrace  our  coun 
try  at  home  and  abroad.77 

The  mother  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  at  the  frightful  picture  she  had 
conjured  up. 

"Oh,  mother,  how  can  you  think  that 
possible?  I  hope  I  am  too  much  of  a 
gentleman  to  be  so  degraded,77  said  The 
odore,  proudly. 

"Will  you  bring  me  home  an  ele 
phant?77  interposed  little  Bob,  the  pet  of 
the  house. 


12  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Bob  was  always  sure  to  have  some 
thing  to  say,  when  any  painful  discussion 
seemed  coming  up  in  the  family.  His  odd, 
inappropriate  remarks  had  broken  up 
many  a  threatened  difficulty  at  the  fire 
side. 

"I'll  bring  you  home  something,  cer 
tainly,77  said  Theodore,  pleasantly,  "what, 
I  can't  say;  but  I  shall  be  able  to  tell 
you  all  about  elephants ;  I  shall  see  plen 
ty  of  them  in  India,  and  boa  constrictors 
too,  and  tigers,  and  a  thousand  curious 
things  besides.77 

Bob  looked  up  with  profound  respect 
at  the  tall  brother  who  was  to  see  so 
much,  and  who  was  so  strong  in  his  con 
fidence  in  his  own  power  and  virtue. 

Mrs.  Gould  meanwhile  gazed  tender 
ly  at  the  manly,  frank-faced  boy,  and 
yearned  to  hear  him  utter  if  it  were  but 
one  word  which  would  show  that  his  trust 
was  in  Grod,  rather  than  in  his  poor  hu- 


A  YOUNG  SAILOR.  13 

man  strength,  and  his  own  poor  human 
heart. 

No  such  words  were  to  gladden  her 
ears  in  that  last  interview.  Theodore's 
cheerful,  affectionate  spirit  held  out  until 
the  moment  came  for  saying  good-by; 
then,  in  the  midst  of  his  assurances  that 
all  would  be  well,  he  dashed  away  warm 
tears  from  his  eyes,  tears  of  real  sorrow 
at  parting  with  the  dear  ones  at  home. 

The  sailor  boy,  in  his  sailor's  dress, 
jumped  into  the  stage-coach  that  was  to 
bear  him  to  the  seaport,  where  the  good 
ship  Kearny,  bound  for  India,  was  lying 
at  anchor.  Hope  again  twinkled  in  his 
eye,  and  glad  smiles  played  around  his 
mouth.  He  had  no  fears,  no  misgivings 
for  the  future. 


14  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  II. 

GOOD  SAMARITANS. 

WHILE  Theodore  Gould  is  getting  on 
his  "sea  legs,"  and  learning  some  of  the 
pleasures  and  pains  of  life  on  the  ocean, 
we  will  turn  our  attention  to  matters  tak 
ing  place  on  shore. 

The  cool  evening  air  of  autumn  was 
settling  over  an  Atlantic  seaport.  No 
country  lake  or  stream  had  yet  consented 
to  travel  mile  after  mile  under  ground, 
to  spout  up  at  hydrants,  and  supply  innu 
merable  bath-rooms  for  the  benefit  of  the 
good  folks  of  the  growing  town.  No,  no. 
Those  were  the  old  days,  when  pump- 
handles  were  to  be  plied,  or  well-ropes 
pulled,  and  every  gallon  of  fresh  water 
was  procured  at  the  expense  of  some 
body's  muscles. 


GOOD  SAMARITANS.  15 

A  tidy  little  girl  had  patiently  waited 
for  her  turn  at  the  corner  pump,  and  now 
her  bucket  was  full,  and  with  the  pecul 
iar,  sidling  motion  of  carrying  a  weight 
upon  one  arm,  she  was  moving  along  the 
pavement. 

Suddenly  she  stopped,  and  putting 
down  her  burden,  stood  perfectly  still. 
She  was  not  giving  up,  wearied  out,  half 
way  home.  Not  she.  That  was  not  the 
spirit  of  Jennet  Coney.  Jennet  had  come 
upon  a  scene  that  had  arrested  her  atten 
tion.  Here  was  something  she  could  not 
pass  by,  and  with  an  air  of  eager  inter 
est  she  stood  a  mute  spectator  of  what 
was  going  on  before  her. 

A  middle-aged  man  in  a  sailor's  dress 
was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  low  flight  of 
steps,  with  his  head  bowed  upon  his  hand. 
One  leg  of  his  loose  trowsers  hung  help 
lessly  down  from  the  knee,  plainly  show 
ing  that  the  stout  calf  and  broad  foot  that 


16  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

should  have  matched  its  fellow  near  by 
had  been  left  somewhere  on  life's  jour 
ney,  much  to  the  loss  of  the  owner.  This 
in  itself  would  have  attracted  Jennet's 
attention  and  aroused  her  prompt  sym 
pathy,  but  the  dejected  air  of  the  stran 
ger  still  further  called  forth  her  compas 
sion. 

A  knot  of  little  boys  had  gathered 
around  the  sailor,  and  were  trying,  by 
pretended  attacks  on  his  person,  and  by 
noisy  raillery,  to  move  him  from  his  po 
sition. 

"Let  me  alone,  boys;  I'm  sick/7  he 
said  at  length,  looking  up  sorrowfully. 

There  was  a  momentary  pause  while 
the  children  questioned  among  them 
selves  the  truth  of  his  defence.  Pity 
soon  stole  over  several  countenances, 
and  there  was  a  decided  falling  back, 
when  one  of  the  roughest  of  the  little 
crew  exclaimed,  "  It  ?s  a  sham.  May  be 


GOOD  SAMARITANS.  17 

he  is  sick,  though.  May  be  he  's  got  it 
very  bad."  Then,  by  imitating  the  mo 
tion  of  drinking  from  a  bottle,  he  hinted 
to  his  companions  the  kind  of  sickness 
from  which  he  believed  the  stranger  to 
be  suffering. 

"I  do  n't  drink,  boys ;  1 'm  sick/7  said 
the  man,  with  the  same  sorrowful  look 
as  before. 

There  was  an  attempt  at  a  halloo  from 
the  rude  leader  of  the  attack,  but  the 
smaller  boys  had  slipped  away,  evidently 
convinced  that  there  was  no  fun  to  be 
got  out  of  such  a  sad  stranger. 

All  this  Jennet  Coney  had  seen  with 
burning  indignation,  and  now  she  prompt 
ly  stepped  to  the  sailor's  side,  saying, 

"  Mister,  it  's  getting  late.  If  you  are 
sick,  you  had  better  just  come  on  a  few 
doors  to  where  my  mother  lives,  and  I 
know  she  '11  let  you  stay  at  our  house  to 
night." 

Blue  Flag.  2 


18  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

The  man  raised  his  eyes.  There  was 
truth  and  real  hearty  interest  in  Jen 
net's  face,  but  still  he  hesitated. 

"I  don't  know  anybody.  Nobody  11 
take  me  in.  May  be  I'm  going  to  be 
very  sick.  When  the  folks  find  me, 
they'll  take  me  to  the  hospital.  Go 
along,  child ;  your  mother  wont  take  in 
a  poor  sick  fellow  like  me." 

" Please,  sir,  my  father  was  a  sailor," 
urged  the  little  girl. 

Jennet  seemed  to  think  this  was  a  con 
quering  argument,  for  she  picked  up  the 
cane  that  had  dropped  from  the  stran 
ger's  hand,  and  giving  it  to  him,  resumed 
her  bucket,  as  if  the  move  was  about  to 
be  made.  There  was  something  in  her 
assured  way  that  had  its  weight.  The 
sailor  rose  with  difficulty,  and  slowly  fol 
lowed  his  young  guide. 

Jennet's  home  was,  as  she  had  said, 
but  a  few  doors  off,  and  it  was  soon 


GOOD  SAMARITANS.  19 

reached,  even  by  her  trembling,  totter 
ing  companion. 

"It's  a  poor  sailor,  mother;  a  sick 
man,77  said  Jennet,  bursting  in  before 
him.  "The  boys  were  making  fun  of 
him,  and  he  7s  only  got  one  leg ;  so  I 
brought  him  home  for  you  to  take  care 
of.  He's  real  sick,  mother.77 

"Very  sick,  ma7am,77  said  the  stran 
ger,  his  pale  face  and  trembling  limbs 
proving  the  truth  of  his  words. 

A  sick  sailor !  Ah,  that  was  a  thought 
that  touched  good  Mrs.  Coney  to  the 
quick.  Had  not  her  own  Jack,  her 
strong-hearted  husband,  died  a  stranger 
in  a  foreign  hospital.  This  was  a  claim 
not  to  be  resisted. 

"Come  in,  sir.  You  are  welcome,77 
she  said  heartily.  "You  did  right,  Jen 
net.  You  did  right,  my  child.77 


20  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

CHAPTER  III. 

A  FAMILY  COUNCIL. 

MRS.  CONEY  was  one  of  those  genial, 
kindly,  busy  people,  who  like  nothing  so 
well  as  being  actively  engaged,  especial 
ly  if  benefiting  others  as  well  as  them 
selves. 

For  three  weeks  she  had  been  active 
enough  to  suit  even  her  stirring,  energetic 
spirit. 

The  stranger's  illness  had  proved  no 
sham,  and  no  thing  of  a  day  to  be  put  to 
flight  by  a  single  visit  from  a  knowing 
doctor.  The  sailor  was  still  fast  in  bed, 
and  suffering  woful  pains,  judging  from 
his  moans  and  ejaculations.  More  ex 
plicit  communications  than  these  he  had 
not  made  since  he  was  kindly  hurried  in 
to  Mrs.  Coney's  only  spare  room,  on  the 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL.  21 

night  of  his  arrival.  The  fever  which 
had  raged  in  his  veins  ever  since,  had  so 
confused  his  brain  that  any  conversation 
with  him  had  been  impossible. 

Tenderly,  as  if  he  had  been  a  sick  child, 
the  poor  fellow  had  been  nursed  by  Mrs. 
Coney,  Gideon,  and  Jennet,  and  in  their 
family  councils  he  was  talked  about  as  if 
he  were  somebody  who  was  particularly 
dear  to  them. 

The  sailor's  clothes  were  marked  "Bin- 
nings"  and  by  that  name  he  was  confi 
dently  called. 

Grideon  Coney  had  come  down  stairs 
to  breakfast,  after  a  night  of  attendance 
on  the  sick  man.  Grideon  was  no  beauty 
at  the  best,  and  now  his  light  hair  was 
standing  off  from  his  fair,  pale  face  in 
every  direction,  giving  a  wide-open  look 
to  his  large,  round  blue  eyes. 

"Gi-o,  put  yourself  in  order,  Grideon, " 
said  Mrs.  Coney,  as  if  shrinking  from  the 


22  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

appearance  of  the  youth  about  to  present 
himself  at  her  table.  There  was  nothing 
on  the  table  particularly  worthy  of  re 
spect.  The  little  black  teapot  had  only 
a  plate  of  bread  and  a  dish  of  roasted 
potatoes  to  keep  it  company ;  but  if  Mrs. 
Coney  had  been  going  to  sit  down  with 
her  children  to  crusts  and  cold  water,  she 
would  have  insisted  upon  their  appear 
ing  in  a  decent  and  orderly  manner. 

As  Grideon  started  off  to  do  her  bidding, 
her  voice  sounded  out  pleasantly  after 
him,  as  she  said,  "Wash  your  face  well, 
and  clear  up  your  thoughts,  my  son ;  I 
want  to  consult  you  about  matters  of  im 
portance.77 

What!  did  the  thrifty,  busy  Mrs.  Co 
ney  ever  ask  advice  of  her  slender,  sim 
ple-looking  boy?  Many  people  would 
have  considered  brisk  little  Jennet  a  far 
better  counsellor. 

Mrs.  Coney  was  thoughtful  and  silent 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL.  23 

during  the  meal,  and  when  it  was  over 
particularly  prompt  and  active  in  clear 
ing  away  the  table. 

When  the  small  common  room  of  the 
Coneys  was  in  order  once  more,  Mrs. 
Coney  stepped  to  the  stairway  and  called 
Gideon  from  the  post  he  had  resumed  at 
Binnings'  bed-side. 

"  How  is  he  now?77  inquired  Mrs.  Coney, 
as  anxiously  as  if  she  had  summoned  Gid 
eon  solely  to  hear  of  the  stranger's  wel 
fare.  "In  a  real  quiet  sleep,  mother/7 
said  Gideon,  and  his  plain  face  actually 
looked  handsome,  as  it  was  overspread 
with  hearty,  kindly  satisfaction  at  the 
good  news  he  was  telling. 

Mrs.  Coney  motioned  Gideon  to  a  chair 
near  the  now  empty  table,  and  then  sit 
ting  down  opposite  to  him,  she  was  about 
to  open  the  conversation,  when  Jennet 
came  bustling  in  and  established  herself 
beside  her  mother. 


24  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

" Gideon,"  said  Mrs.  Coney,  very  so 
berly,    "how  long  is  it  since  Binnings 


came.77 


"Three  weeks  to-night;  I  was  count 
ing  it  up  just  now,77  was  the  prompt  an 
swer. 

"Three  weeks;  I  thought  so,77  mused 
Mrs.  Coney.  "Well,  Gideon,  we  7ve  paid 
up  every  thing,  medicine,  doctor,  and  all ; 
are  you  sure  there  7s  nothing  owing?77 

"Not  a  cent,  mother,77  said  Gideon 
proudly.  Mrs.  Coney  took  from  her 
pocket  a  small  worn  purse  and  emptied 
slowly  on  the  table  four  half-dollars  and 
two  bright  quarters.  "There,  children, 
that  7s  all  there  is  left.  Gideon,  shall  we 
have  Binnings  sent  to  the  hospital,  and 
give  up  doing  for  him?77 

"I711  go  without  meat  for  a  week,  if 
you7ll  keep  him,77  said  Jennet,  quickly. 

"We  11  hold  on  to  him,  while  there  is 
any  life  in  him,77  said  Gideon,  decidedly, 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL.  25 

" That's  right,  my  children;  so  we 
will,"  said  Mrs.  Coney,  with  unusual 
warmth.  "We  wont  give  up  a  poor 
sailor,  when  he  's  at  the  worst." 

Mrs.  Coney  had  a  habit  of  asking  the  ad 
vice  of  her  children,  not  only  to  strength 
en  herself  in  resolutions  she  had  formed, 
but  to  interest  them  in  helping  to  execute 
her  plans.  They  well  knew  her  spirit, 
and  were  quite  sure  to  advise  in  accord 
ance  with  it. 

"Now  we  've  made  up  our  minds,  how 
shall  we  carry  it  out,  Grideon?"  contin 
ued  the  mother.  "Thanks  to  Jack  Co 
ney's  thrifty  ways,  he  did  n't  leave  me 
without  a  roof  of  my  own  over  my  head ; 
but  there  's  the  bread  and  butter  to  be 
found,  and  a  woman's  needle  do  n't  make 
gold  in  a  hurry.  I  must  n't  wrong  my 
own  for  strangers;  we  must  sell  some 
thing,  Gideon ;  what  shall  it  be  ?" 

Jennet's     thoughts      rapidly     passed 


26  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

through  her  own  possessions,  while  Grid- 
eon's  eye  restlessly  wandered  round  the 
room,  with  a  glance,  now  and  then,  at 
his  mother,  as  if  to  discern  the  plan  she 
had  in  her  mind. 

In  one  corner  stood  a  rude  case  of 
shelves,  on  which  were  arranged  bright- 
colored  shells  from  every  clime,  and  an 
assortment  of  corals  that  would  have 
charmed  a  collector. 

Here  Gideon's  eye  rested,  and  the  sor 
rowful  approval  in  his  mother's  face,  as 
sured  him  that  he  was  right. 

"Shall  we  sell  the  shells,  the  shells 
father  brought  home  ?"  exclaimed  Gid 
eon,  with  pained  astonishment.  The  idea 
that  those  treasures  which  had  been  con 
sidered  too  sacred  for  him  to  touch, 
should  fall  into  the  hands  of  strangers, 
was  hard  to  be  received. 

"To  help  a  poor  sailor  in  his  need, 
Jack  would  have  wished  it/7  said  Mrs, 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL.  27 

Coney,  slowly,  and  with  difficulty.  Ah, 
every  one  of  those  bright  treasures  of 
ocean  had  other  whispers  for  her  than 
the  roar  of  the  far-off  waves,  that  seems 
ever  imprisoned  in  their  secret  cells.  They 
told  her  of  the  glad  returns  from  distant 
perils  of  the  one  she  loved  best.  She 
well  knew  which  had  been  brought  from 
islands  in  the  sea,  which  from  the  tropic 
heats  where  Jack  had  lain  sick  of  a  fever, 
and  which  from  the  inhospitable  shore 
where  he  had  ouce  wandered,  a  ship 
wrecked  mariner. 

One  little  shell  that  had  its  own  tiny 
case,  Mrs.  Coney  now  took  in  her  hands. 
The  rest  might  go,  but  she  could  not 
part  with  that.  Had  not  Jack  sent  it 
to  her  by  a  messmate,  with  the  honest 
earnings  that  he  had  hoped  himself  to 
lay  in  her  hand.  Had  he  not  bade  her 
remember,  when  she  looked  at  that  harp- 
shell,  that  he  was  now  sounding  his  harp 


28  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

where  there  was  "  no  more  sea  "  and  no 
more  parting.  The  rest  might  go ;  but 
she  could  not  spare  that  dear  relic,  which 
ever  reminded  her  that  he  whom  she 
mourned  had  cheerfully  and  belieyingly 
passed  to  his  eternal  home. 

It  was  Jennet  who  watched  at  Bin- 
nings'  bed-side  that  day;  and  as  the 
sailor  quietly  dozed,  the  little  girl  plied 
her  nimble  fingers,  feeling  at  each  stitch 
that  she  was  not  only  doing  her  part 
towards  refilling  the  family  purse,  but 
haying  her  share  in  befriending  the  des 
olate  and  afflicted  stranger. 

Grideon,  meanwhile,  had  gone  forth  to 
try  his  skill  as  a  salesman,  disposing  of 
treasures  which  could  be  to  no  one  so 
precious  as  to  the  sailor 's  wife. 


A  DISCOVERY.  29 


CHAPTER   IV. 

A  DISCOVERY. 

dollars!  That  seemed  a  paltry 
sum  to  receive  for  the  inestimable  cabi 
net,  which  had  been  Mrs.  Coney's  chief 
treasure  and  the  wonder  of  all  the  neigh 
borhood.  Yet  she  cheerfully  slipped  the 
money  into  her  worn  purse,  sure  that  she 
was  doing  better  honor  to  the  memory  of 
her  husband  by  befriending  a  destitute 
sailor,  than  in  clinging  to  the  dear  me 
mentos  of  the  past.  With  even  this 
small  addition  to  the  family  stock,  by 
self-denial  and  strict  economy,  they  would 
be  able  to  give  Binnings  the  comforts 
that  he  now  so  needed  for  restoration  to 
health. 

Ah,  it  is  the  poor  who  are  the  best 
friends  of  the  poor.      They  who  have 


30  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

been  pinched  by  poverty  are  most  eager 
to  draw  others  from  her  painful  clutches. 
He  who  "suffered,  being  tempted,7'  was 
best  fitted  to  succor  the  suffering  and  the 
tempted.  We  have  here  the  explanation 
of  the  afflictions  through  which  many  of 
God's  people  are  called  to  pass,  that  they 
may  be  fitted  to  minister,  Christ-like,  to 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  sorrow. 

Their  joint  efforts  for  their  sick  guest 
seemed  to  have  knit  Mrs.  Coney  and  her 
children  into  a  closer  bond  of  union. 
Binnings  was  their  common  subject  of 
interest  and  their  common  topic  of  con 
versation.  Now  that  he  was  actually  re 
covering,  a  merry  spirit  was  pervading 
the  house,  and  the  humble  repasts  were 
seasoned  by  chat  quite  as  cheerful  as  if 
the  viands  were  better. 

Jennet  had  taken  Binnings  his  dinner, 
and  had  watched  him  with  satisfaction  as 
he  ate  mouthful  after  mouthful  of  the  ten- 


A  DISCOVERY.  31 

der  steak  with  the  relish  that  only  comes 
after  the  long  fast  of  fever. 

" There,  child,  that's  a  meal;  a  real 
hearty  one,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  laid  the 
fork  down  on  the  empty  plate.  "I  won 
der  if  you  can  take  comfort  that  way. 
Wasn't  that  steak  good!77 

"  I  am  glad  you  enjoyed  it, ;?  said  Jennet, 
her  whole  face  sparkling  with  pleasure. 

"Tell  me,  how  did  it  taste  to  you?"  he 
said,  pleasantly. 

Jennet  was  embarrassed,  and  for  a 
moment  was  silent. 

An  uncomfortable  thought  struck  Bin- 
nings  like  a  knife.  "Oh,  child,"  he  said 
quickly,  "do  you  give  me  better  dinners 
than  you  have  yourself?  Tell  me  that ; 
speak  out  plain." 

"We  have  all  we  want.  We  are  very 
comfortable  indeed,"  persisted  Jennet. 
It  was  in  vain  for  Binnings  to  try  to  get 
any  more  definite  answer. 


32  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Jennet  might  as  well  have  spoken  out 
plainly.  Binnings  had  guessed  the  truth. 
He  had  read  the  unselfish  kindness  of  the 
humble  family,  who  had  been  denying 
themselves  that  he  might  have  the  nour 
ishing  food  needed  to  restore  strength 
to  his  limbs  and  vigor  to  his  frame.  Ah, 
that  thought  made  him  feel  weak  indeed, 
and  it  roused  such  a  tide  of  grateful  love 
as  well-nigh  unmanned  him.  Truly  he 
thanked  God  that  in  his  hour  of  peril  he 
had  fallen  among  good  Samaritans. 

Jennet  was  dispatched  at  once  to  call 
her  mother. 

Mrs.  Coney  hurried  up-stairs,  fearing 
that  the  patient  was  threatened  with  a 
relapse.  She  did  not  find  Binnings  either 
in  a  fit  or  a  faint.  There  he  sat  in  the 
calico-covered  easy-chair,  with  his  leg 
and  a  half  stretched  out  on  a  wash-bench, 
and  a  general  air  of  comfort  pervading 
the  small  but  neat  apartment. 


A  DISCOVERY.  33 

"Sit  down,  ma'am;  sit  down,  ma'am," 
said  Binnings,  trying  to  put  on  a  business 
air,  when  his  heart  was  full  to  overflow 
ing.  "  You  are  a  widow,  ma'am,  I  know ; 
a  sailor's  widow.  God  forbid  that  I  should 
ever  devour  the  substance  that  belongs 
to  a  sailor's  children,  and  be  a  burden  on 
a  sailor's  widow.  I  thank  you  for  your 
goodness  to  me,  more  than  I  am  able  to 
say  now.  I'll  tell  you  about  that  by  and 
by.  But  here 's  the  question,  What  do  I 
owe  you?77 

Mrs.  Coney  was  taken  utterly  by  sur 
prise  ;  nay,  poor  as  she  was,  she  was  ac 
tually  hurt  and  disappointed. 

"I  hav'n't  looked  for  any  return.  I 
did  for  you  as  I  would  have  wished  folks 
to  do  for  my  Jack  in  like  case,"  she  re 
plied. 

"  And  your  Jack  would  have  paid  up 
like  a  man,  as  soon  as  he  was  able.  Is  n't 
that  so?"  urged  Binnings,  quickly. 


34  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Mrs.  Coney  was  overcome  and  con 
fused  by  this  sudden  turn  in  the  argu 
ment,  and  was  forced  to  answer  truly,  "I 
believe  he  would.  Jack  never  liked  .to 
be  beholden  to  anybody,  if  he  could  help 
it,  He  had  an  independent  spirit  in  him." 

"And  so  have  I,"  said  Binnings.  "I 
can't  pay  you  for  what  you  've  done  for 
me.  The  Lord  will  reward  you.  He 
keeps  reckoning  of  them  that  care  for 
the  sick  and  the  stranger.  I  just  want 
to  pay  my  honest  debts." 

Mrs.  Coney  gave  a  doubtful  glance 
around  the  room,  as  if  to  see  where  the 
stores  were  from  which  Binnings  was  to 
make  his  payments.  The  young  scamp 
who  had  led  the  band  of  boys  about  him 
on  the  night  when  he  was  taken  sick,  had 
not  failed  to  relieve  him  of  his  pocket- 
book  in  one  of  his  pretended  attacks  on 
his  person.  This  Binnings  and  the  fam 
ily  well  knew. 


A  DISCOVERY.  35 

A  quiet  smile  passed  over  the  sailor's 
face  as  lie  said,  "I've  been  ashore  too 
many  times  in  a  strange  place  to  keep 
my  earnings  by  me  over  night.  I  took 
care  to  put  what  money  I  had  with  my 
nest-egg  in  the  savings-bank  as  soon  as 
I  set  foot  on  land.  There  it  stands, 
charged  to  John  Binnings,  to  go  to  sail 
ors'  orphan  children  when  John  Bin 
nings  has  done  with  this  world.  I  am 
going  to  let  you  see  that  I  can  write  my 
name,  and  that  somebody 's  heard  of  me 
before.  Get  me  some  paper  and  a  pen, 
Jennet." 

Jennet  brought  the  required  articles, 
and  Binnings  wrote  a  draft  on  the  City 
Savings-bank  for  twenty  dollars,  sign 
ing  his  name  with  the  necessary  flour 
ishes,  which  he  considered  a  lawful  part 
of  his  signature. 

"This  from  John  Binnings  to  Jack 
Coney's  children,  to  see  that  they  fare 


36  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

as  well  as  he  does,"  said  the  sailor,  hand 
ing  it  to  Mrs.  Coney.  He  well  knew  that 
any  form  of  giving  her  the  money  would 
be  more  pleasing  than  a  direct  payment. 
Blunt  as  he  was,  the  rough  man  was  not 
wanting  in  delicacy  of  feeling.  He  had 
received  that  which  no  money  could  re 
pay,  and  he  would  not  pretend  that  he 
considered  the  matter  finished  by  a  set 
tlement  in  dollars  and  cents. 

Gideon  Coney  made  his  first  visit  to 
the  bank  the  next  morning,  and  his  round 
eyes  opened  wider  than  ever  when,  in 
return  for  John  Binnings'  feeble  scrawl, 
he  received  twenty  gold  dollars,  bright 
and  shining  as  if  just  from  the  United 
States  mint. 


A  LONG  STORY.  37 


CHAPTER   V. 

A  LONG  STORY. 

BINNINGS  was  rapidly  recovering.  He 
began  to  feel  the  old  vigor  in  Ms  strong 
arm,  the  old  energy  in  his  stout  heart. 
With  returning  health  his  wonted  love  of 
fun  came  back  to  him,  and  his  store  of 
sea-stories,  that  had  been  as  in  a  sealed 
casket,  was  drawn  out  for  the  delighted 
children. 

Grideon  now  well  knew  how  and  where 
Binnings  had  lost  his  missing  foot ;  and 
Jennet  could  give  a  correct  account  of 
every  one  of  the  three  long  scars  that 
marked  rather  than  defaced  Binnings' 
strong -featured  but  pleasant  counte 
nance. 

Binnings  had  been  taking  tea  with 
Mrs.  Coney  and  her  children,  and  now 


38  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

they  had  all  pushed  back  from  the  table, 
and  Gideon  and  Jennet  were  clamorous 
for  a  story,  a  real  true  story. 

"Well,  here  goes.  IVe  had  it  in  my 
heart  to  tell  it,  for  a  week  back,"  said 
Binnings,  settling  himself  comfortably  in 
his  chair. 

"  Once  there  was  an  old  sinner  of  a 
sailor,  who,  though  the  Lord  had  saved 
him  from  forty  and  nine  troubles,  when 
the  fiftieth  came  was  always  for  taking 
matters  in  his  own  hands,  and  being  his 
own  captain.  This  same  sailor  had  been 
on  the  sea  ever  since  he  was  a  wee  chap, 
and  shipped  with  his  father  to  wait  in 
the  cabin,  before  he  was  fit  to  lend  a 
hand  among  the  ropes.  The  sea  was 
more  like  a  home  to  him  than  any  place 
else ;  and  not  strange  either,  for  he  had  n't 
kith  or  kin  either  living  or  dead  on  the 
land,  saving  his  mother,  bless  her  soul, 
who  died  when  he  was  born.  He  had 


A  LONG  STORY.  39 

been  used  to  go  to  sleep  with  the  singing 
of  the  waves  in  his  ears,  and  he  fancied 
he  could  n't  rest  right  or  feel  right  any 
where  but  aboard  ship. 

"Now  it  happened  this  same  old  fellow 
was  in  a  boat  that  got  capsized  once  upon 
a  time,  and  a  shark  bit  his  leg  clean  off — 
shoe,  stocking,  and  all.  His  messmates 
got  what  there  was  left  of  him  aboard, 
and  they  nursed  him  up  as  if  he  was 
worth  saying — the  poor  sinner.  It  was 
hard  enough  to  lie  by  and  be  waited  on 
like  a  girl,  and  there  were  pains  to  put 
up  with  that  it  is  not  worth-  while  to 
speak  about ;  but  this  was  not  what  went 
hard  with  the  one-legged  man.  May  be 
you  wont  believe  me,  when  I  tell  you  he 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  actually 
cried,  when  he  thought  he  was  n't  fit  for 
any  thing  'board  ship  any  more,  and 
must  just  be  put  ashore  to  stump  it  on 
land  as  best  he  could.  He  was  weak  then, 


40  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

or  lie  would  n't  have  been  such  a  baby ; 
he  was  a  sinner,  or  he  wouldn't  have 
murmured  against  the  Lord's  doings. 

"When  he  got  so  that  he  could  go 
round,  with  a  wooden  pin  where  his  leg 
used  to  be,  and  that  leg  nobody  knows 
where,  there  came  sickness  aboard  ship, 
and  he  turned  nurse,  going  from  berth  to 
berth  and  standing  by  the  fellows  that 
were  so  hot  with  fever  the  doctor  was 
most  afraid  to  touch  'em.  Poor  sick 
chaps ;  they  looked  at  the  one-legged 
man,  such  looks  as  mothers  get  some 
times,  so  loving  and  so  grateful.  He 
did  n't  deserve  them,  and  he  knew  it  in 
his  heart.  May  be  there  was  some  kind 
sort  of  feeling  in  him,  that  kept  him  watch 
ing  night  and  day ;  but  that  was  no  credit 
to  him :  way  down  deep  he  was  hoping 
the  fever  would  seize  him,  and  let  him 
finish  off  his  life  aboard  ship,  like  a  sailor, 
and  be  dropped  down  in  the  deep  waters, 


A  LONG  STORY.  41 

like  his  father  and  brothers  before  him. 
Never  mind  that  now,  it  wasn't  the  Lord's 
will. 

"He  came  ashore,  as  down-hearted  a 
poor  fellow  as  ever  was  turned  out  from 
home,  to  see  the  old  door-steps  no  more. 
He  knew,  when  he  turned  hi$  back  on  the 
ship,  he  had  had  his  last  voyage,  and  had 
done  with  that  way  of  life  for  ever.  He 
did  n't  care  much  what  became  of  him ; 
and  when,  towards  night,  he  felt  a  heavy 
sickness  stealing  over  him,  he  hoped  it 
would  soon  come  to  an  end,  and  put  him 
in  a  quiet  place.  He  thought  he  was  a 
Christian,  but  he  knows  now  that  it  is  n't 
the  Christian  kind  of  spirit  to  want  to 
die,  to  get  rid  of  the  troubles  the  Lord 
sends  us. 

"You  know  who  took  him  in,  and 
nursed  him  back  to  life,  as  if  he  was  the 
king's  son.  I  wont  talk  about  that  now. 
I  could  n't  say  what  I  feel  about  it,  if  I 


42  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

were  to  talk  as  long  as  I  have  strength. 
But  I  tell  you,  John  Binnings  has  learned 
a  lesson,  and  he  's  got  a  plan  in  his  head. 
I  Ve  been  thinking  of  the  poor  sick  fel 
lows  that  come  ashore  with  no  friend  to 
take  them  by  the  hand,  and  of  the  young 
chaps  that  are  dragged  down  to  the  devil 
and  plundered  of  all  they  have,  because 
there  '"s  nobody  to  put  an  honest  roof 
over  their  head.  John  Binnings  has  laid 
up  money,  no  great  store,  rich  folks  would 
say,  but  it  will  answer  his  ends.  May  be 
the  Lord  kept  the  poor  sinner  alive  for 
just  this  particular  work.  I  can't  live  on 
the  sea,  but  I  mean  to  live  for  the  sail 
ors  ;  and  I  shall  have  a  talk  with  a  mess 
mate  now  and  then,  and  may  be  I  can 
get  some  of  them  to  set  sail  for  the  sure 
harbor,  and  nail  the  Christian's  colors  to 
the  mast.  I  '11  try  for  it,  while  there  's 
life  in  me." 

Binnings  was  excited,  and  he  stopped 


A  LONG  STORY.  43 

for  a  moment  to  take  breath.  Gideon 
laid  his  hand  in  the  sailor's,  as  if  to  join 
partnership  with  him,  while  Jennet  hur 
rahed  her  delight.  Bustling,  busy  Mrs. 
Coney  was  wiping  her  eyes.  She  was  not 
of  the  tearful  kind,  but  Binnings  had 
touched  the  tenderest  chord  in  her  heart, 
and  awakened  her^  sympathies  where 
they  had  their  surest  strong-hold. 

"Who  has  the  other  part  of  your 
house,  Mrs.  Coney  ?"  said  Binnings,  ab 
ruptly  putting  the  question.  Now  it  had 
always  been  a  trial  to  Mrs.  Coney  that 
when  Jack  had  built  a  house  of  his  own, 
with  a  pretty  plot  of  ground  around  it, 
he  should  have  had  it  back  to  back  with 
that  of  another  messmate,  so  that  they 
both  had  no  front  door,  as  the  woman 
had  often  said,  and  neither  had  a  house 
to  themselves,  after  all.  She  would  not 
reflect  on  her  husband's  judgment  now, 
though  she  was  not  slow  in  relating  her 


44  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

various  trials  from  her  near  neighbors ; 
but  she  closed  up  cheerfully,  as  she 
always  did  after  a  storm,  by  adding  that 
there  was  nobody  there  now,  she  was 
thankful  to  say,  though  'To  let7  had  been 
posted  up  at  the  front  windows  for  three 
weeks  steady. 

"It's  just  the  thing.  Til  rent  that 
house  to-morrow,  if  I  am  spared  to  see 
the  sun.  You  shall  do  the  business  for 
me,  Grideon.  And  now  for  something 
more.  You  love  the  sailors,  Mrs.  Coney ; 
that  's  what  I  want.  There  7s  no  driving 
woman,  if  she  was  ever  so  smart,  that 
could  come  up  to  what  I  want,  if  the  real 
feeling  for  folks  that  follow  the  sea  wasn't 
in  her.  This  is  my  plan:  I'll  get  the 
house  ready ;  but  I  want  you  to  keep  it 
in  order,  and  see  that  the  poor  fellows 
are  comfortable.  Those  that  are  able  to 
pay,  shall  pay  and  welcome,  and  those 
that  hav'n't  the  cash  shall  be  cheerfully 


A  LONG  STORY.  45 

taken  care  of,  while  I  am  hobbling  about 
this  world.  When  the  months  come 
round,  if  there  's  any  money  made,  it 
shall  be  yours;  if  there's  any  money 
lost,  I'll  make  it  up.  Is  it  a  bargain? 
Will  you  help  me  to  have  a  decent  place 
to  take  sailors  to,  and  keep  them  out  of 
mischief?77 

"With  all  my  heart,  and  God  bless 
you  for  the  thought,7'  said  Mrs.  Coney 
earnestly. 

" We'll  all  do  what  we  can,"  said 
Jennet,  who  liked  to  have  it  understood 
that  she  was  a  partner  in  all  her  mother's 
concerns. 

Gideon  said  nothing,  but  he  grasped 
Binnings'  hand  tightly,  while  he  earnest 
ly  prayed  that  God  would  send  a  bless 
ing  on  their  new  undertaking,  and  make 
himself  known  to  the  children  of  the  sea. 


46  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"As  neat  as  wax!  as  neat  as  wax!" 
Binnings  was  walking  through  his  new 
house,  and  everywhere  bestowing  his 
praise.  Mrs.  Coney  and  Jennet  and  Gid 
eon  were  following  him  in  procession, 
enjoying  his  hearty  satisfaction.  Very 
hard  they  had  all  three  worked,  and 
there  had  been  much  planning  and  re- 
planning  before  every  thing  could  be 
bought  and  brought  into  its  present  con 
dition  of  perfect  order. 

All  was  plain,  as  plain  as  possible, 
but,  as  Binnings  said,  "neat  as  wax,  and 
wholesome  and  comfortable  to  boot.77  Oil 
cloth  on  the  floors,  cheap  white  spreads 
on  the  narrow  beds ;  in  the  sitting-room 
down  stairs,  a  newspaper  laid  on  the 


THE  BLUE  FLAG.  47 

great  round  table,  and  a  Yankee  clock 
ticking  out  the  time  from  above  the  man 
tel-piece. 

"It's  complete/7  said  Binnings,  after 
making  the  round. 

' '  We  ought  to  have  a  sign  out,  LODG 
INGS  FOR  SAILORS,  or  something  of  that 
kind,77  said  Jennet. 

"No,  no,  that  a7n7t  my  plan,77  said 
Binnings  quickly;  "that  might  get  in 
too  many  of  the  wrong  sort.  I  mean 
to  pick  them  up  about  the  wharves,  and 
bring  home  just  such  as  I  like,  till  we 
get  the  run  of  the  right  kind  of  cus 
tomers.77 

"But  we  ought  to  have  some  way  of 
letting  them  know  the  house,77  persisted 
Jennet.  "You  can7t  wait  on  every  body 
here  you  want  to  send  home ;  the  houses 
a7n7t  numbered,  you  know.77 

"Suppose  we  hang  out  the  'Stars  and 
Stripes,777  suggested  Gideon. 


48  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"  And  have  our  house  taken  for  a  rub- 
a-dub  recruiting  office!77  said  Binnings; 
"and  yet  we  might  have  some  kind  of  a 
flag,  just  to  mark  it.77 

Mrs.  Coney  disappeared  for  a  moment, 
and  soon  returned  with  something  care 
fully  wrapped  in  a  napkin.  Jennet  well 
knew  the  square  of  blue  cloth,  like  her 
father's  last  jacket,  which  her  mother 
had  carefully  preserved  among  her  treas 
ures.  Now  its  blue  folds  were  shaken 
out,  as  Mrs.  Coney  said,  "This  is  the 
sailor's  color.  Will  this  do  for  our  flag, 
Mr.  Binnings?77 

Jennet  had  whispered  to  the  old  sailor 
the  association  which  had  given  a  charm 
to  the  offering  Mrs.  Coney  was  now 
making,  and  he  took  it  respectfully  in  his 
hand  as  he  said, 

"It  is  just  the  thing,  Mrs.  Coney; 
the  true  sailor's  color.  May  many  a 
poor  fellow  bless  the  day  when  he  found 


THE  BLUE  FLAG.  49 

his  way  to  the  house  with  the  Blue 
Flag."  . 

It  was  an  easy  task  for  Grideon  prompt 
ly  to  procure  a  flag-staff,  and  then  he 
eagerly  exclaimed,  "May  I  nail  it  fast, 
Binnings?" 

"  Yes,  nail  it  to  the  corner  of  the  house, 
and  may  it  never  come  down  while  I  live." 

The  Blue  Flag  was  fluttering  in  the 
wind,  and  the  children  were  eagerly 
watching  it  from  the  window,  when  Bin 
nings  called  on  them  for  their  attention. 

Eeverently  he  took  down  a  large  Bible 
and  Prayer-book  from  a  shelf  in  the  cor 
ner,  and  laid  them  on  the  table.  Slowly 
and  distinctly  he  read  aloud  the  one  hun 
dred  and  seventh  Psalm. 

"Let  us  pray,"  said  the  deep  voice  of 
the  sailor,  and  the  little  group  knelt  down 
together.  Binnings  read  the  Evening 
Prayer  for  families  in  the  Prayer-book ; 
and  although  it  was  a  new  thing  for  him 

Blue  Flag.  4 


50  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

to  address  his  Maker  in  the  presence  of 
human  beings,  he  forgot  all  earthly  things 
in  his  earnest  desire  to  consecrate  the 
opening  of  his  house  to  the  God  whom 
he  wished  to  serve. 

"So  will  I,  with  all  who  shall  be  in 
this  house,  begin  and  end  every  day/7 
said  Binnings,  as  he  rose  from  his  knees, 
11  and  may  God  add  his  blessing." 


A  STRANGER.  51 


CHAPTEE   VII. 

A  STRANGER. 

IT  was  two  years  since  Binnings  had 
first  opened  his  house  for  men  of  the 
sea,  and  the  "Blue  Flag"  was  now  well 
known  among  such  sailors  as  wanted  a 
temporary  home,  where  they  could  be 
comfortably  accommodated,  free  from 
those  temptations  which  ordinarily  assail 
"poor  Jack"  as  soon  as  he  sets  his  foot 
on  shore. 

Many  a  hardy  man  had  thanked  God 
for  this  timely  shelter,  and  gone  forth 
again  to  his  rough  life  cheered  by  John 
Binnings'  pledged  friendship  and  kindly 
counsel.  We  will  not  say  how  blessed 
a  stay  at  the  "Blue  Flag"  had  been  to 
youths  who  were  as  yet  too  ready  to  be 
lieve  the  paths  of  sin  ways  of  pleasant- 


52  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

ness,  and  too  blind  as  to  their  certain 
end  in  misery  and  degradation. 

For  sailors  of  this  class,  Binnings  was 
ever  on  the  look-ont.  The  sound  of  noisy 
merriment  in  the  street  was  sure  to  draw 
him  forth  to  strive  to  win  some  of  the 
roysterers  to  a  night's  rest  under  his 
roof,  rather  than  to  the  continued  revel 
to  which  they  were  tempted. 

Binnings  and  Gideon  were  sitting 
among  the  group  gathered  around  the 
large  stove  in  the  common  parlor  one 
evening.  Grideon  was  a  great  help  to 
Binnings  in  his  efforts  to  give  the  fire 
side  talk  a  profitable  turn,  and  they  often 
started  off  in  the  discussion  of  religious 
topics  with  such  hearty  interest,  that  the 
rough  tars  around  them  would  be  uncon 
sciously  won  to  mingle  in  the  conversa 
tion. 

"  I  say,  Grideon,77  said  Binnings,  after 
a  moment's  quiet  thought,  " it  wouldn't 


A  STRANGER.  53 

take  long  to  convert  the  world,  if  every 
sailor  was  a  missionary.77 

The  idea  was  a  new  one  to  G-ideon,  and 
his  face  beamed  with  pleased  surprise  as 
he  fully  took  it  in. 

"That's  capital/7  he  exclaimed;  "I 
never  thought  of  that  before.  "Why,  they 
go  everywhere,  do  n't  they ;  and  if  they 
were  real  thorough -going  Christians, 
they  7d  be  taking  the  right  banner  clear 
into  the  midst  of  the  heathen.77 

"  Just  so.  There  are  some  of  them,  I 
know,  who  are  doing  that  very  thing,77 
said  Binnings  cheerily. 

"That  a7n7t  the  way  with  most  of  us, 
by  a  long  shot,77  interrupted  one  of  the 
four  sailors  in  the  little  circle  around  the 
fire.  "It7s  a  chance  if  heathen  folks 
do  n't  learn  more  mischief  than  good 
from  such  chaps  as  1 7ve  generally  sailed 
with." 

"More  7s  the  pity.    But  there 7s  a  bet- 


54  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

ter  time  coming.  Sailors  are  beginning 
to  understand  what  it  is  to  be  a  high- 
minded  Christian  man,  who  would  scorn 
to  do  that  in  a  strange  country  that  he  7d 
be  sorry  to  have  his  mother  know  of.77 

Binnings  was  in  the  mood  for  a  long 
talk;  but  at  that  moment  there  was  a 
noise  of  hallooing  near  the  window,  that 
at  once  attracted  his  attention.  He 
started  up,  exclaiming,  "Come,  Gideon, 
come,  messmates,  have  you  a  mind  to 
save  some  poor  fellows  from  getting  into 
more  mischief?  Let  7s  go  out.77 

Binnings  stumped  along,  leading  the 
way ;  and  his  little  party  were  soon  in 
the  midst  of  a  noisy  crew,  who  were 
shouting  and  staggering  as  they  attempt 
ed  to  carry  one  of  their  companions, 
who  was  so  thoroughly  intoxicated  that 
he  was  unable  to  take  another  step  for 
himself. 

"Here,  give  us  the  boy  in  charge- 


A  STRANGER.  55 

we  711  give  him  snug  quarters  till  the 
morning,  and  then  you  can  call  and  ask 
after  his  health/7  said  Binnings,  going 
up  to  the  disorderly  group. 

" We'll  look  after  him  ourselves,77 
said  one  of  the  young  sailors,  accompany 
ing  his  hiccoughed  speech  with  an  oath, 
and  an  attempted  blow  at  the  would-be 
friend. 

"Have  a  care  there.  Look  out  what 
you  do,  man.  Binnings  is  my  friend. 
It  7s  Binnings  of  the  Blue  Flag.  I  know 
him  by  his  wooden  pin,77  exclaimed  an 
other  of  the  party. 

It  was  plain  that  the  last  speaker  was 
not  in  a  condition  to  know  any  body 
without  some  very  distinguishing  mark 
of  identity.  Yet,  half  intoxicated  as  he 
was,  his  naturally  kind  feelings  were  not 
altogether  dulled.  He  sidled  up  to  Bin 
nings,  and  said  confidentially,  "Take 
him,  Binnings.  I  know  about  the  Blue 


56  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Flag.     He's  a  young    'un.      He   can't 
stand  what  we  can." 

Binnings,  thus  encouraged,  persuaded 
the  stumbling,  staggering  fellows  to  yield 
up  their  heavy  burden ;  and  they  gave  a 
shout  of  relief  as  Gideon  and  the  four 
strong  sailors  bore  their  silent  companion 
away. 

On  the  bed  in  the  neat,  quiet  "  sick 
room"  of  the  establishment  the  poor 
young  sailor  was  laid,  for  the  time  un 
conscious  as  the  dead.  Ah,  if  he  had 
passed  into  eternity  from  that  state  of 
brutal  intoxication,  what  would  have 
been  the  fate  of  his  soul? 

In  the  presence  of  Gideon  and  the 
four  friendly  tars,  Binnings  took  posses 
sion  of  the  lad's  pocket-book,  after  duly 
counting  his  money,  and  laid  beside  it  in 
his  strong-box  the  few  other  loose  arti 
cles  he  had  about  him.  Among  the  lat 
ter  was  a  daguerreotype. 


A  STRANGER.  57 

' '  The  boy  7s  sweetheart,  I  711  bet  a  dol 
lar/7  exclaimed  one  of  the  sailors. 

"His  mother,  rather/'7  said  Binnings, 
as  he  looked  into  the  sweet  face  that 
gazed  on  him  from  the  picture.  Time 
had  marked  the  brow  with  passing  years, 
but  it  bore  no  signs  of  harrowing  grief. 
"Poor  woman/7  murmured  Binnings  as  a 
bright  drop  suddenly  glistened  in  his  eye, 
"she  would  n't  look  like  that  if  she  could 
see  him  now.  May  God  bless  the  lad, 
and  give  him  true  repentance.77 


58  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

AWAKING. 

"WHO  am  I?  Where  am  I?"  These 
were  the  questions  proposed  to  the  con 
fused  brain  of  the  new  inmate  when  he 
awoke,  after  his  long  heavy  sleep. 

He  had  none  of  the  joyousness  now 
that  had  made  him  a  leader  in  the  last 
night's  carousal.  Head  and  heart  were 
sick.  Body  and  soul  were  reaping  the 
miseries  of  sin. 

To  the  first  question  the  answer  slow 
ly  came,  and  in  its  overwhelming  realiza 
tion  the  second  was  for  the  time  for 
gotten. 

"Theodore  Gould!"  That  was  the 
name  that  thrilled  through  the  brain  and 
heart  of  the  young  sailor,  a  name  of 
which  he  had  once  been  proud,  a  name 


AWAKING.  59 

his  mother  had  called  so  fondly,  a  name 
his  little  brother  had  spoken  as  of  one 
above  the  common  faults  of  men.  Ah, 
Theodore  had  fallen,  yet  God  had  not 
yet  deserted  him ;  there  was  one  ray  of 
hope,  even  in  his  present  condition.  He 
could  see  his  degradation,  he  could  loathe 
himself. 

With  bitter,  bitter  loathing,  he  thought 
of  what  he  once  had  been,  and  what  he 
now  was.  Step  by  step  he  traced  his 
downward  path.  His  first  oath,  uttered 
timidly;  the  habit  of  profaneness  that 
had  grown  upon  him ;  his  Bible  deserted, 
his  Sabbaths  dishonored ;  and  to  crown 
all,  and  increase  the  power  of  every  temp 
tation,  the  free  use  of  that  intoxicating 
cup  which  promises  pleasure,  but  surely 
turns  to  poison. 

In  the  midst  of  these  reflections,  The 
odore  heard  the  sound  of  an  approaching 
footstep.  He  shrank  from  meeting  any 


60  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

human  eye.  He  lay  in  utter  silence  as 
if  asleep  while  some  one  busied  himself 
about  the  room,  adjusted  the  bedclothes, 
and  arranged  the  curtain  so  that  the 
broad  light  of  day  need  not  stream  in  on 
his  face. 

Then  there  was  a  slight  rustling,  fol 
lowed  by  a  moment  of  stillness,  as  Grid- 
eon  knelt  at  the  bedside.  He  had  looked 
at  the  young  face  of  the  sleeper,  until 
his  heart  yearned  over  the  stranger  as  if 
he  had  been  a  brother,  and  the  deep  wish 
of  his  soul  broke  forth  in  prayer. 

For  the  stranger  Gideon  pleaded  with 
loving  earnestness,  for  the  sake  of  his  ab 
sent  mother.  He  implored  that  repent 
ance  might  be  granted  him,  for  the  sake 
of  that  Friend  of  sinners  who  came  to 
seek  and  to  save  them  that  are  lost. 
Such  prayer  comes  only  from  believing 
hearts,  which  are  touched  with  a  Christ- 
like  desire  to  save  the  souls  of  their 


AWAKING.  61 

brethren.  As  Gideon  rose  from  his 
knees,  he  looked  again  upon  the  face  of 
the  sleeper.  A  tear  was  stealing  from 
under  the  closed  lid.  Gideon  would  not 
speak,  to  learn  whether  he  had  been 
heard  or  not,  but  silently  closing  the 
door,  he  walked  away  with  hope  stirring 
at  his  heart. 


THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THEODORE. 

THEODORE  GOULD  had  been  for  several 
days  an  inmate  of  the  "sick-room/7  at 
the  Blue  Flag.  Although  he  was  evi 
dently  well  enough  to  come  down  stairs, 
it  was  plain  that  he  was  unwilling  to 
leave  his  retirement,  and  Binnings  did 
not  urge  him  to  do  so.  He  well  under 
stood  that  the  youth  had  food  enough  for 
secret  thought,  and  work  to  do  which 
must  be  done  alone  with  God. 

We  will  not  undertake  to  describe  the 
agony  of  repentant  sorrow,  which  for  a 
while  so  filled  poor  Theodore's  mind  that 
he  was  deaf  to  every  voice  of  comfort. 
Humbled  and  stricken  as  he  was,  he  at 
last  dared  to  hope  that,  through  the  merits 
of  a  divine  Saviour,  even  he  might  be 


THEODORE.  63 

forgiven  and  accepted  in  the  Beloved. 
Binnings'  straightforward  way  of  talking 
on  religious  subjects  was  a  great  help 
to  Theodore  during  his  time  of  doubt 
and  darkness,  and  he  learned  to  look  on 
the  honest  old  sailor  as  a  loved  and 
trusted  friend. 

Binnings  came  into  Theodore's  room 
one  morning,  and  found  him,  as  usual, 
with  an  open  Bible  in  his  hand.  The 
restored  daguerreotype  lay  beside  him. 
Binnings  took  it  up,  and  opening  it,  said 
suddenly,  "When  are  you  going  to  see 
her?  We  don't  want  to  hurry  you 
away,  but  she  must  be  aching  for  a  sight 
of  you.77 

Theodore  rose  and  gazed  at  himself  in 
the  small  looking-glass.  Ah,  in  every 
feature  there  were  too  plain  traces  of  the 
life  he  had  been  lately  leading.  In  im 
agination  there  peered  over  his  shoulder 
the  frank,  boyish  face  he  had  worn  when 


64  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

he  left  home,  so  full  of  hope  and  self- 
confidence.  How  sad  the  change  that 
had  come  over  him! 

"I  cannot  see  my  mother.  One  look 
at  me  would  break  her  heart,"  he  ex 
claimed.  "She  had  better  think  me 
dead,  than  know  what  I  am." 

"A  forgiven  sinner,"  said  Binnings 
quietly. 

"  Forgiven,  I  hope,"  murmured  Theo 
dore;  "but  Oh,  still  so  weak  and  sinful, 
so  little  like  what  I  ought  to  be.  I  mean 
well  now,  but  who  knows  how  soon  I  may 
fall?  I  have  lost  all  confidence  in  my 
self." 

"So  much  the  better,  so  much  the 
better,"  exclaimed  Binnings  heartily. 
"Look  to  your  Captain  to  hold  up  your 
right  hand  and  strengthen  your  right 
arm.  He  ?s  able  to  take  you  safe  through 
fire  and  water,  through  men  and  devils, 
temptations  and  afflictions,  evil  report 


THEODORE.  G5 

and  good  report.  Look  to  your  Captain 
the  Lord  Jesus,  Theodore ;  pray  to  him, 
lean  on  him,  and  trust  in  him,  and  he'll 
bring  you  off  conqueror." 

"  It  will  be  his  strength  that  keeps  me 
up,  if  I  do  n't  fall,  for  I  know  I  have  no 
power  to  stand  temptation,"  said  Theo 
dore  humbly  and  sorrowfully. 

"See  your  mother,  boy;  she'll  know 
how  to  counsel  you,"  said  Binnings,  turn 
ing  the  daguerreotype  towards  Theodore. 

Theodore  gave  it  one  long,  loving  look, 
and  then  covering  his  face  with  his  hands, 
he  exclaimed,  "I  cannot  go  to  her;  I 
cannot  fill  her  heart  with  sorrow.  I  will 
take  another  voyage,  and  try  my  new 
principles.  Perhaps  I  may  yet  be  a  son 
whom  she  will  not  blush  to  own." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Binnings  tried  to 
combat  Theodore's  resolution;  it  could 
not  be  shaken.  He  insisted  that  as  he 
had  returned  in  a  different  ship  from 


66  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

that  in  which  he  had  embarked,  she 
would  not  hear  that  he  had  been  in  the 
country ;  and  that  it  would  be  better  that 
she  should  mourn  him  as  dead,  than  know 
how  miserably  he  had  fallen.  "  She  shall 
not  know  how  degraded  I  have  been,  till 
she  can  be  sure  that  I  am  thoroughly  re 
formed."  These  were  Theodore's  reit 
erated  words,  and  Binnings  at  last  was 
obliged  to  leave  him  to  the  course  he  had 
chosen. 


BINNINGS'  JOURNEY.  67 


CHAPTEE  X. 

BINNINGS'  JOURNEY. 

THROUGH  the  kind  efforts  of  Binnings, 
Theodore  obtained  a  berth  on  board  a 
temperance  ship  with  a  pious  captain. 
The  humbled  lad  was  thankful  now  to 
avail  himself  of  every  aid  to  support  his 
new  resolutions,  and  as  Binnings  said, 
was  safer  in  his  fear  of  doing  wrong,  than 
if  he  was  the  most  stout-hearted  fellow  in 
the  world  who  trusted  to  his  own  good 
ness  to  keep  him  out  of  temptation. 

During  Theodore's  stay  at  the  Blue 
Flag,  he  was  the  chief  subject  of  interest 
in  the  kindly  household ;  but  now  a  new 
topic  for  conversation  had  arisen,  about 
which  each  one  had  something  to  say. 

Binnings  was  going  on  a  journey.  The 
honest  sailor  thought  it  a  more  perilous 


68  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

undertaking  to  travel  two  hundred  miles 
by  land,  than  to  circumnavigate  the  globe 
in  a  good  ship,  pronounced  by  the  insur 
ers  sound  from  topmast  to  keel.  Like 
most  men  of  the  sea,  Binnings  had  but 
little  confidence  in  horses,  and  deemed  it 
a  kind  of  voluntary  running  into  danger, 
for  human  beings  to  place  their  precious 
lives  in  the  keeping  of  four-footed  beasts. 
And  as  to  the  lumbering  stage-coach, 
Binnings  called  it  "a  poor  affair  in  com 
parison  with  the  smallest  schooner  that 
ever  put  out  from  Cape  Cod.77 

Yet  upon  the  journey  Binnings  was 
determined,  cost  him  what  it  would.  A 
stanch  old  sailor  had  promised  to  take 
his  place  at  the  head  of  the  household 
at  the  Blue  Flag ;  yet  Binnings  declared 
that  he  would  not  have  dreamed  of  leav 
ing  home,  even  for  a  day,  if  it  were  not 
for  the  continual  presence  of  Mrs.  Coney, 
who  would  not  let  a  poor  Jack  Tar  want 


.       BINNINGS'  JOURNEY.  69 

for  any  thing,  so  long  as  she  had  a  crust 
of  her  own. 

Jennet  had  packed  the  small  black 
travelling-bag  which  Binnings  had  bought 
for  the  occasion,  Gideon  had  helped  the 
stout  owner  of  the  Blue  Flag  into  the 
stage-coach,  last  words  were  over,  and 
away  rolled  the  coach ;  while  Binnings 
let  his  great  spotted  pocket-handkerchief 
float  from  the  window,  like  a  signal  of 
distress. 

Binnings  was  not  a  man  to  ride  all  day 
in  silence,  crowded  into  less  than  nine 
square  feet,  with  eight  living  specimens 
of  his  own  kind.  He  did  not  mind  speak 
ing  first.  When  a  lady  drew  away  her 
dress,  as  if  afraid  of  injuring  his  wood 
en  pin,  "Never  fear,  madam,  you  wont 
tread  on  my  toes;  I've  room  enough,'7 
he  exclaimed  cheerily;  and  the  smile 
which  followed  his  remark  seemed  to 
put  the  whole  company  at  ease  at  once. 


70  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Of  course,  during  the  long  slow  drives 
up-hill,  the  travellers  wanted  a  story 
from  Binnings  to  while  away  the  time ; 
and  before  long  he  let  out  enough  of  his 
personal  history  to  make  the  passengers 
curious  to  hear  more;  and  they  did  hear 
how  the  sick  man  was  nursed  by  the 
sailor's  widow,  and  how  the  Blue  Flag 
was  put  up,  that  there  might  be  one 
place  where  a  tar's  earnings  would  be 
safe  from  shore  robbers,  and  his  soul 
from  cunning  tempters  in  human  form. 
His  hearers  felt  what  he  said  in  their 
hearts,  and  then  felt  in  their  pockets  too, 
and  found  their  purses  there,  and  on  the 
spot  a  contribution  was  taken  up  for  the 
library  at  the  Blue  Flag,  that  put  Bin 
nings  in  a  humor  to  be  well  pleased  with 
landsmen  for  that  day,  at  least. 

Binnings  was  several  days  on  his  jour 
ney.  He  did  not  travel  at  night,  not  he, 
to  look  like  a  thief  escaping  from  justice, 


BINNINGS'  JOURNEY.  11 

or  a  runaway  bridegroom,  as  he  said. 
There  was  no  need  of  his  losing  his 
lawful  rest,  and  he  took  it  wherever  he 
found  himself  when  evening  came  on. 
He  took  his  rest,  which  was  more  than 
could  be  said  of  any  body  who  was  near 
him.  His  great  broad  chest  and  capa 
cious  nose  seemed  to  conspire  together 
to  trumpet  forth  the  soundness  of  his 
sleep ;  while  now  and  then  the  over 
weary  man  was  moved  to  shout  sea 
orders  in  his  dreams,  which  startled  his 
neighbors  into  any  thing  but  a  good  hu 
mor.  Nobody,  however,  wanted  to  quar 
rel  with  their  fellow-traveller,  the  sailor 
with  the  wooden  leg.  Binnings'  warm 
heart  had  made  itself  known  in  more 
ways  than  one  through  those  long  days. 
The  delicate  young  mother  remembered 
who  carried  her  baby  when  she  was  too 
much  worn  out  to  hold  it.  The  sick  lady, 
who  had  found  the  rolling  of  the  heavy 


12  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

coach  as  trying  in  its  effects  as  the 
lurches  of  a  ship  in  a  storm,  had  not  for 
gotten  who  got  out  for  her  at  the  first 
stopping-place,  and  administered  a  sip 
of  brandy,  at  the  same  time  declaring  it 
was  all  the  stuff  was  good  for,  to  be  used 
as  a  medicine  in  desperate  cases.  The 
boy-traveller,  who  had  stored  away  the 
boat  and  the  bow  that  Binnings  had  cut 
out  for  him,  was  willing  to  be  waked 
from  his  first  nap  by  such  a  good-natured 
friend  as  Binnings  had  proved  himself 
to  be. 

Faint-hearted  Christians  who  had  feared 
to  rebuke  the  profaneness  of  the  rough 
driver,  could  not  but  respect  the  hardy 
sailor,  who  declared  that  he  could  not 
hear  his  "  great  Captain's  name  spoken 
that  way,  on  sea  or  on  shore,  without 
speaking  his  mind  about  it." 

Binnings  had  not  thought  of  making  a 
missionary  tour,  but  he  had  been  silently 


BINNINGS'  JOURNEY.  73 

preaching  the  law  of  charity  day  after 
day,  and  had  roused  in  more  than  one 
heart  a  new  interest  for  men  of  the  sea. 
More  than  one  of  his  fellow-travellers 
had  parted  from  him,  with  a  resolution 
formed  to  do  something  to  give  the  sailor 
the  gospel  on  board  ship,  and  a  Christian 
home  on  shore.  The  journey  had  actu 
ally  proved  a  pleasant  thing  to  Binnings, 
and,  for  private  reasons  of  his  own,  he 
was  sorry  when,  on  Saturday  evening,  it 
came  to  a  close,  as  he  had  reached  his 
place  of  destination. 

Binnings  had  no  pride  about  appearing 
at  church  in  his  sailor  dress.  He  right 
ly  thought  God's  house  open  to  every 
sincere  worshipper,  and  the  state  of  the 
heart  of  far  more  importance  than  the  cut 
of  the  apparel.  He  did  not  mind  the 
little  boys  who  nudged  each  other  and 
giggled  in  the  pew  next  him,  nor  did  he 
care  for  the  young  miss  who  tossed  her 


74  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

head,  as  she  was  forced  to  take  her  seat 
at  his  side.  He  was  an  honest  man, 
clean  in  his  dress  and  right  in  his  inten 
tions  ;  and  it  was  little  to  him  what  any 
body  thought  of  him,  so  he  could  join  in 
the  precious  words  of  prayer  in  the  great 
congregation,  and  hear  the  gospel  preach 
ed  by  one  of  God's  own  chosen  messen 
gers.  The  morning  service  was  over, 
but  Binnings'  head  was  still  bowed  in 
private  prayer;  he  felt  that  he  needed 
uncommon  strength  for  the  duty  before 
him,  and  he  had  a  particular  reason  for 
calling  down  a  blessing  on  that  congre 
gation. 

As  he  rose  to  leave  his  seat,  the  throng 
of  people  was  already  pouring  down  the 
aisle,  and  as  he  was  pushed  by  somewhat 
roughly,  his  tarpaulin  was  swept  from 
his  hand.  Stooping  down  was  a  some 
what  difficult  performance  for  Binnings, 
and  this  fact  seemed  at  once  to  strike  a 


BINNINGS'  JOURNEY.  15 

sweet  young  girl  who  chanced  to  stand 
at  his  side.  With  the  kindness  of  true 
politeness,  she  restored  the  hat  to  its 
owner,  and  with  a  smile  of  such  real  in 
terest  that  Binnings  was  moved  to  say, 
"  Thank  ye,  miss,  Grod  bless  you/7  from 
the  depths  of  his  heart. 


76  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

CHAPTER   XI. 

TIDINGS. 

BINNINGS  was  abroad  early  on  Mon 
day  morning.  The  sights  and  sounds  of 
the  noisy  hotel  made  him  sick  at  heart, 
and  he  longed  to  be  out  in  the  clear  fresh 
air,  where  he  could  have  his  quiet  thoughts 
to  himself,  and  meditate  in  his  own  pe 
culiar  way. 

Binnings  did  not  give  up  his  morning 
walk  wholly  to  meditation,  as  was  evi 
dent  by  the  reconnoitering  of  a  particu 
lar  house,  in  which  he  seemed  to  take  a 
special  interest.  To  that  house  he  made 
his  way,  when  breakfast  was  over,  and 
his  ring  at  the  bell  was  that  of  one  who 
was  fully  resolved  on  what  he  had  un 
dertaken.  ' 

The  door  was  promptly  opened,  and 


TIDINGS.  IT 

Binnings  at  once  inquired  if  he  could  see 
Mrs.  Gould. 

The  blank  look  of  the  servant  sent  a 
thrill  of  pain  through  Binnings7  very 
heart,  and  he  impatiently  waited  for  the 
reply.  Could  it  be  that  Mrs.  Gould  was 
no  more  on  earth,  to  hear  tidings  of  good 
or  ill? 

"  Mrs.  Gould  do  n't  see  any  body.  She 
a7n7t  well.  She  do  n7t  see  any  body/7  was 
the  hesitating  reply. 

At  that  moment  a  familiar  face  passed 
along  the  hall,  even  the  face  that  had 
called  forth  Binnings7  fervent  "God  bless 
you 77  the  day  before. 

"It7s  a  sailor,  miss;  asking  for  Mrs. 
Gould/7  said  the  servant,  in  answer  to 
the  questioning  look  of  the  young  girl. 

"Come  in,  come  in,  I  can  see  you. 
Had  you  any  particular  message  for  my 
mother?77  The  words  were  spoken  hur 
riedly,  and  in  an  earnest,  anxious  way, 


78  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

that  plainly  told  to  Binnings  that  here 
was  a  true  sister's  heart,  yearning  to 
hear  of  the  absent  one. 

"Not  a  message  exactly;  he  didn't 
certainly  know  I  was  coming.'7 

" My  brother!"  exclaimed  Ella  Grould, 
the  sudden  tears  filling  her  eyes. 

"  Just  so,  miss.  He  couldn't  make  up 
his  mind  to  come  and  see  you  himself." 

Again  Binnings  was  interrupted,  but 
this  time  by  an  expression  of  anger.  "  In 
this  country?  Theodore  here,  and  not 
come  to  see  his  mother!  This  is  too 
bad." 

"Boys  wont  be  reasoned  with,  you 
know,  miss.  But  he  's  all  right ;  he  ']] 
be  a  true  Christian  man.  I  feel  sure 
of  it." 

The  shadow  swept  from  Ella's  face, 
and  a  bright  look  of  hope  took  its  place 
as  she  exclaimed,  "My  mother,  my  dear 
mother!" 


TIDINGS.  79 

"The  boy  went  wrong,  miss.  Sailors 
are  just  shut  up  to  temptations,  you  know. 
No  Sabbath,  no  minister,  no  sister's  arms 
around  their  necks,  no  mother  to  whisper 
what's  right  to  them.  Poor  Theodore 
went  wrong,  like  many  a  young  fellow 
before  him.  He  said  it  would  break  his 
mother's  heart  to  see  him  looking  the 
way  he  did,  and  he  7d  take  another  voy 
age,  and  try  and  come  back  a  different 
man.  Thank  God,  I  believe  the  worst 
is  over  with  him,  and  he  7s  put  his  trust 
where  he  wont  be  disappointed.  He  's 
strong  in  the  Lord,  I  believe  in  my  soul.77 

Ella  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  wept  like  a  little  child.  To  hear  of 
her  lost  brother  thus!  It  was  hard  to 
bear.  He  of  whom  she  had  been  so 
proud,  he  whom  she  had  mourned  as  one 
of  the  noble,  cut  off  in  the  innocence  of 
his  hopeful  youth !  That  he  should  have 
been  so  drawn  into  sin  that  he  dare  not 


80  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

look  his  mother  in  the  face !  There  was 
rising  anger  in  Ella's  heart  in  the  midst 
of  her  sisterly  sorrow.  Her  erring  broth 
er  seemed  to  her  for  the  moment  the  en 
emy  of  the  dear  mother  who  had  so  fond 
ly  cherished  them  both.  How  had  that 
mother's  hair  grown  white  with  anxiety ; 
and  was  she  now  to  be  cast  down  with 
shame  for  her  son? 

Binnings  was  not  slow  in  reading  what 
was  passing  in  his  hearer's  mind.  There 
was  an  unmistakable  flash  in  her  dark 
eye,  as  she  raised  her  face  from  time  to 
time  to  ask  some  question,  or  to  utter 
some  exclamation  of  sorrow  or  displeas 
ure. 

"  We  are  all  sinners,  miss/7  said  Bin 
nings  at  last.  "We  would  all  go  down 
to  the  pit,  but  for  the  walls  a  merciful 
Providence  puts  around  us.  It  7s  not  our 
own  goodness  that  saves  us.  Theodore 
stands  before  God  this  dajr,  with  his  sins 


TIDINGS.  81 

forgiven  for  the  sake  of  the  Lord  Jesus ; 
and  his  poor  fellow-creatures  might  at 
least  let  bygones  be  bygones,  and  take 
him  by  the  hand.  That's  my  way  of 
looking  at  it,  miss.77 

<  <  I  forgive  him  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  and  I  wish  I  could  tell  him  so/7 
exclaimed  Ella ;  "but  mother,  I  am  afraid 
it  will  kill  her.  She  has  not  been  like 
herself  for  months.  It  7s  the  thought  of 
Theodore  that  preys  on  her,  I  know, 
though  she  never  talks  about  it.  You 
would  not  wonder  at  the  way  I  feel,  if 
you  knew  how  changed  she  is.  She 
hardly  notices  any  thing;  she  sits  as  if 
she  was  in  a  dream.77 

"The  Lord  has  sent  her  something  to 
wake  her,  and  to  bring  her  to  her  knees 
to  thank  him  for  his  mercies,77  said  Bin- 
nings  warmly.  "The  sooner  she  hears 
the  truth,  the  better ;  that  7s  my  way  of 
thinking." 

Blue  Flag.  Q 


82  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right/7  said  Ella 
thoughtfully. 

At  this  moment  there  was  an  inter 
ruption  to  the  conversation.  A  stout, 
curly-headed  boy  burst  into  the  room, 
exclaiming,  "I  told  mother  there  was  a 
sailor  down  stairs  talking  with  you,  and 
she  wants  to  see  you  this  very  minute. 
I  say,  there  she  is  coming  herself.77 

In  another  instant  an  eager,  sorrow- 
stricken  face  was  presented  at  the  door. 
Binnings  made  a  short  story  this  time. 
He  saw  it  was  no  occasion  for  slow  break 
ing  of  news.  "Your  son,  ma'am,  is  alive 
and  well.  He  7d  gone  far  on  the  road  to 
ruin ;  but  thank  God,  he  7s  turned  about, 
and  is  forgiven  through  Christ  Jesus.'7 

11  Thank  God!  thank  God!77  were  Mrs. 
Gould's  fervent  words.  She  had  no 
room  in  her  mother's  heart  for  blame  for 
the  offender.  She  could  forgive  him  all, 
and  be  thankful  that  he  had  found  the 


TIDINGS.  83 

only  Rock  of  safety.  She  could  even 
pardon  his  turning  his  back  on  his  native 
land,  without  once  entering  the  home  he 
loved  so  well.  She  knew  what  he  must 
have  suffered,  when  his  proud  spirit  was 
humbled  by  the  degradation  into  which 
he  had  fallen.  She  appreciated  the  ten 
derness  which  had  made  him  unwilling 
to  let  her  see  the  face,  so  dear  to  her, 
marred  by  traces  of  sin.  The  mother's 
heart  understood  all,  and  forgave  all; 
and  the  fond  sister  felt  and  comprehend 
ed  that,  deep  as  may  be  a  sister's  devo 
tion,  there  fe  no  fount  of  human  love 
like  that  which  God  has  hidden  deep  in 
the  soul  of  the  true  mother. 


84  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  BOX. 


was  back  at  the  Blue  Flag, 
going  on  with  his  duties  more  cheerily 
than  ever,  from  the  consciousness  of 
having  taken  sunshine  to  one  household, 
by  the  journey  he  had  planned  and  exe 
cuted  with  so  much  thought. 

Sunshine  indeed  was  now  pervading 
Theodore's  home.  The  apathy  that  had 
hung  over  Mrs.  Gould  lik£  a  pall,  had 
been  broken  by  Binnings'  blunt  commu 
nication.  Mrs.  Gould  had  rallied  from 
her  long  torpor  to  new  life  and  energy. 

She  had  heard  every  particular  of 
Theodore's  stay  at  the  Blue  Flag,  and 
honest  Binnings  had  not  now  a  more  fast 
friend  on  earth  than  Mrs.  Gould.  A 
mother's  love  quickened  her  to  under- 


THE  BOX.  85 

stand  the  dangers  that  war  against  the 
soul  of  the  sailor  by  sea  and  land ;  and 
she  determined  to  leave  no  means  un 
tried  to  induce  her  fellow- Christians  to 
awake  to  the  importance  of  bearing  the 
blessed  message  of  the  Saviour  to  the 
hardy  men  who  have  no  fireside  round 
which  to  gather  at  evening,  no  voices  of 
childhood  to  call  to  mind  the  Babe  of 
Bethlehem. 

To  work  for  shipwrecked  sailors  had 
become  a  pleasure  with  Mrs.  Gould; 
and  while  Ella  and  she  were  busy  over 
the  red  flannel  garments,  there  was  no 
lack  of  conversation  between  them.  The 
odore  had  left  Ella  a  pleasant  child,  sub 
ject  to  her  mother  in  all  things,  and  lean 
ing  upon  her  for  constant  advice.  The 
state  of  mind  into  which  Mrs.  Gould  for 
a  time  had  fallen,  had  changed  their 
relations,  and  rapid  as  was  Ella's  physi 
cal  growth,  her  character  matured  with 


86  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

still  greater  rapidity.  She  felt  herself 
her  mother's  guardian  and  nurse,  and 
though  at  times  somewhat  headstrong 
and  hot-tempered,  Mrs.  Gould  believed 
in  her  heart  that  there  was  not  in  the 
known  world  a  more  devoted  daughter 
than  her  Ella. 

To  sustain  her  mother's  renewed  cheer 
fulness,  Ella  gave  full  play  to  the  natural 
vivacity  of  her  disposition ;  and  Bob 
was  heard  to  declare  that  sister  Ella 
was  as  funny  as  a  story-book. 

Bob  had  a  blue  flag  flying  from  his 
empty  dog-kennel,  as  an  indication  that 
four-legged  strangers  would  be  hospita 
bly  entertained.  As  yet  there  had  been 
no  applications  at  his  Snug  Harbor, 
though  Bob  stumped  about  with  a  cane 
thrust  up  his  trousers,  and  imitated  hon 
est  Binnings  in  a  way  that  gave  him  at 
least  entire  satisfaction. 

"Any  messages  for  the  Blue  Flag?77 


THE  BOX.  87 

inquired  Master  Bob,  drawing  up  his 
tiny  express-wagon  at  the  drawing-room 
door. 

"I  shall  have  a  box  to  send  to-mor 
row/7  said  Mrs.  Gould,  pointing  to  a 
great  box,  beside  which  Ella  was  kneel 
ing  while  the  packing  went  on.  "  Sup 
pose  you  go,  Bob,  for  the  real  express 
man,  and  ask  him  to  call  early  to-mor 


row." 


" My  line  connects  with  his.  I'll  do 
it,  ma'am, "  said  Bob,  with  a  flourishing 
bow  as  he  withdrew. 
.  "I  wish  I  could  be  there  when  they 
open  the  box.  I  wonder  what  that  smart 
little  Jennet  will  say.  I  hope  the  hood 
will  fit  her,'7  said  Ella. 

It  was  doubtful  if  more  pleasure  would 
be  felt  when  the  box  was  unpacked  at 
the  Blue  Flag,  than  was  experienced  at 
Mrs.  Gould's  in  preparing  it. 

When  the  cover  was  finally  nailed  on, 


88  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

and  the  real  expressman,  with  Bob's  pre 
tended  assistance,  bore  it  away,  it  was 
followed  by  kindly  thoughts  and  good 
wishes  that  would  in  themselves  have 
been  a  valuable  present. 


THE  PRESENT.  89 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 

THE  PRESENT. 

IT  was  not  a  rare  thing  for  Binnings 
to  have  a  present.  Many  a  tribute  was 
brought  to  him  from  over  the  sea  by 
grateful  sailors,  and  the  table  at  the  Blue 
Flag  was  furnished  with  many  a  luxury 
for  which  neither  Binnings  nor  Mrs.  Co 
ney  had  expended  a  copper.  A  box  or 
a  barrel  from  on  board  ship  was  no  rar 
ity  ;  but  a  box  left  by  a  stage-coach,  and 
bearing  neither  sign  or  mark  of  a  recent 
voyage,  was  something  to  be  wondered 
at. 

Jennet  was  the  first  to  report  the  arri 
val,  and  was  equally  prompt  in  provid 
ing  Binnings  with  a  hatchet  and  wedge, 
that  she  might  have  a  peep  at  the  inside 
as  soon  as  possible. 


90  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Mrs.  Coney's  motherly  heart  told  her 
the  secret  at  once ;  she  did  not  need  to 
inquire  who  had  been  sending  Binnings 
a  present  from  a  far-off  inland  town. 

A  great  packet  of  religious  newspapers 
was  taken  out  first.  Then  came  several 
valuable  books  for  the  library  of  the  Blue 
Flag;  then  Jennet's  hood;  then  a  nice 
shawl  for  Mrs.  Coney ;  then  a  beautiful 
Bible  for  Gideon;  and  then  a  store  of 
clothing  just  fit  for  sailors'  use.  As  these 
last  were  drawn  out,  Binnings  actually 
clapped  his  hands  with  delight.  "This 
is  what  we  need,"  he  exclaimed.  "Why, 
we  could  fit  out  half  a  dozen  poor  ship 
wrecked  fellows  with  what  there  is  here.77 

Binnings  had  admired  Jennet's  hood, 
and  praised  the  other  contents  of  the  box, 
without  apparently  once  thinking  that, 
although  his  name  had  been  on  the  cover, 
there  had  as  yet  been  no  special  remem 
brance  for  him.  This  fact  had  not  es- 


THE  PRESENT.  91 

caped  either  Mrs.  Coney  or  Jennet ;  and 
the  latter,  having  perched  her  hood  on 
her  head,  was  exploring  the  depths  of 
the  box  as  if  seeking  something. 

Binnings  was  busy  looking  over  ap 
provingly  certain  stout  trowsers  and 
heavy  overcoats  that  he  held  in  his 
hand,  and  his  attention  had  to  be  forci 
bly  drawn  to  a  small  package  which  Jen 
net  had  at  length  come  upon  in  her  re 
searches. 

"Here,  Mr.  Binnings.  This  has  your 
name  on,"  she  exclaimed  with  eagerness. 
"I  do  so  wonder  what  it  is.  Perhaps 
there  is  a  letter  in  it,  to  tell  who  sent  the 
box." 

Binnings  either  had  less  curiosity  than 
Jennet,  or  he  was  not  without  suspicions 
as  to  the  kind  hands  that  had  packed  the 
box  so  full  of  acceptable  gifts.  At  any 
rate,  he  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  open  the 
letter  which  the  little  parcel  contained. 


92  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

It  remained  untouched,  while  he  gazed 
and  gazed  and  gazed  with  moist  eyes  at 
a  daguerreotype  which  had  accompanied 
the  letter.  Every  one  about  him  seemed 
to  be  forgotten,  and  there  was  something 
in  his  manner  that  hushed  even  talkative 
Jennet  into  silence. 

Yes,  Binnings'  thoughts  were  wander 
ing  far  from  the  spot  where  he  stood. 
Over  the  wide  sea  he  was  following  the 
Dolphin  in  her  course,  and  earnestly 
calling  down  the  blessing  of  heaven  on 
a  repentant  sailor,  who  had  indeed  start 
ed  on  a  new  voyage,  with  angels  as  his 
well-wishers. 

" There  is  what  the  poor  boy  was" 
said  Binnings  at  length,  as  he  handed 
the  likeness  quietly  to  Mrs.  Coney.  "His 
mother  wanted  me  to  see  what  a  son  she 
had  parted  with.  It  7s  a  splendid  face. 
God  help  the  boy.  He  7s  gone  far  astray ; 
but  He  who  has  changed  him  can  sustain 


THE  PRESENT.  93 

Mm.  What  says  the  book?  'If  two  of 
you  shall  agree  as  touching  any  thing 
that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for 
them.7  These  are  the  words  of  the 
faithful  promise.  Shall  we  strike  hands 
now  that  we'll  all  pray  for  that  boy 
every  night  before  we  sleep?  He  needs 
the  prayers  of  his  friends,  the  poor  fel 
low." 

The  daguerreotype  had  been  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  while  Binnings  had 
been  speaking,  and  every  heart  was 
touched  by  the  sad  contrast  between  its 
frank  boyish  face,  and  the  countenance 
of  the  Theodore  Grould  they  had  known 
in  his  humiliation. 

There  was  no  loud  assent  to  Binnings7 
proposal;  but  the  low,  earnest,  "We 
will,77  was  a  pledge  of  the  faithful  fulfil 
ment  of  the  agreement. 

Mrs.  Gould's  letter  was  such  a  letter 
as  only  a  mother  can  write,  welling  up 


94  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

with  tenderness  for  the  absent  one,  and 
invoking  untold  blessings  on  the  house 
hold  who  had  received  him  as  one  rais 
ed  from  the  dead.  Binnings  had  not  a 
great  many  earthly  treasures,  but  he  put 
that  letter  and  daguerreotype  into  his 
strong-box,  to  be  kept  till  the  day  of  his 
death. 


COMPANIONS.  95 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

COMPANIONS. 

A  BLAMELESS  teacher  has  not  always 
blameless  pupils,  nor  is  a  pious  captain 
always  accompanied  by  a  pious  crew. 

Theodore  Gould  made  this  discovery 
on  board  the  temperance  ship  with 
Captain  Grlynn.  In  the  forecastle  there 
were  German,  Italian,  and  American 
sailors,  all  understanding  enough  English 
to  obey  ship-orders,  swear  horrible  oaths, 
and  try  to  persuade  Theodore  to  join  in 
their  games  of  chance,  or  sly  drinks  at 
the  various  bottles  smuggled  into  their 
chests. 

The  poor  boy  struggled  manfully 
against  their  influence ;  yet  he  had  to 
mourn  many  a  hasty  word  he  was 
prompted  to  speak,  and  to  see  the  smile 


96  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

of  satisfaction  come  over  their  counte 
nances  as  lie  was  unconsciously  led  to 
utter  oatlis  while  joining  in  their  conver 
sation. 

Why  is  it  that  the  wicked  love  to 
draw  others  into  the  mire  where  they 
are  miserably  wallowing? 

Daily  sinning  and  daily  repenting, 
Theodore  fought  against  the  temptations 
that  surrounded  him,  until  he  was  almost 
desperate. 

One  Sunday  morning  Theodore  had 
taken  his  Bible,  and  was  striving  to  read 
in  the  midst  of  the  disturbance  his  asso 
ciates  wilfully  made  around  him.  At 
length  he  laid  the  book  suddenly  down, 
and  looking  at  the  hardy  group,  he  said, 
"  Messmates,  I  am  younger  than  any 
of  you.  I  believe  you  feel  kindly  tow 
ards  me,  and  would  willingly  do  me  a 
favor.  Will  you  listen  while  I  tell  you 
a  story?" 


COMPANIONS.  97 

The  captain  had  no  work  done  on  Sun 
day  but  simply  what  was  needed  for  sail 
ing  the  ship,  arid  the  crew  were  therefore 
willing  to  while  away  their  time  in  lis 
tening  to  what  sailors  so  dearly  love,  a 
story.  There  was  besides  not  a  little 
curiosity  as  to  Theodore's  previous  life. 
While  his  companions  had  been  free  to 
tell  their  hairbreadth  escapes  and  their 
exploits  in  scenes  of  wickedness,  the 
young  sailor  had  kept  a  profound  silence 
as  to  his  own  history. 

Now  the  ice  was  broken.  He  describ 
ed  the  happy  boy,  indulged  by  his  kind 
mother  in  his  fancy  for  the  sea.  He 
painted  his  departure  from  home,  so  full 
of  hope,  and  so  strong  in  the  sense  of 
his  own  hatred  of  what  was  low  and 
wicked.  His  downward  path  was  faith 
fully  sketched,  how  faithfully  some  of 
his  listeners  well  knew.  His  deep  deg 
radation  he  did  not  shrink  from  reveal- 


98  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

ing,  nor  his  horror  when  he  woke  to  find 
himself  what  he  had  once  hated  and 
despised.  The  agony  of  those  dark  hours 
at  the  Blue  Flag  were  now  first  fully 
made  known  to  human  ears — the  deep 
despair  of  one  who  sees  the  loathsome 
pit  into  which  he  has  wilfully  plunged 
soul  and  body.  The  dawn  of  hope, 
when  he  could  first  believe  that  even  he 
could  be  forgiven;  the  preciousness  of 
that  Saviour  who  could  so  blot  out  the 
past,  and  offer  a  future  of  blessedness; 
the  resolution  formed  to  serve  that  Sav 
iour  until  death :  on  these  themes  Theo 
dore  dwelt  with  an  earnestness  and  sin 
cerity  that  went  home  to  every  heart. 
He  spoke  of  his  mother,  that  dear  moth 
er  whom  he  so  yearned  to  see,  and  yet 
from  whose  loving  eye  he  shrank  away 
as  unfit  for  her  pure  glance.  "  I  want  to 
see  that  mother,  a  changed  man,  one  that 
she  can  be  willing  to  own  as  her  son.  I 


COMPANIONS.  99 

want  to  serve  the  Saviour  who  accepted 
my  poor  repentance,  and  gave  me  peace 
when  I  was  in  the  depths  of  misery. 
Messmates,  I  want  to  reach  that  heaven 
which  is  the  only  sure  harbor.  Will 
you  make  me  know  again  the  bitterness 
of  one  who  hates  and  despises  himself? 
Will  you  make  me  turn  my  back  on  my 
mother  and  my  Saviour  and  heaven? 
Oh,  messmates,  will  you  drag  me  down 
to  the  depths  of  that  hell  whose  torment 
has  no  end?  I  am  weak  and  wicked, 
and  easily  led  astray.  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  not  have  strength  to  stand  out 
against  you.  I  feel  old  habits  coming 
over  me  again.  I  am  horribly  afraid  that 
I  shall  sink,  sink  to  perdition.  Wont 
you  have  pity  on  me,  and  spare  me  your 
temptations  ?" 

There  was  an  humble,  sorrowful  ear 
nestness  in  Theodore's  tone,  which  told 
how  truly  he  was  speaking  from  the 


100  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

depths  of  his  heart,  as  he  pleaded  for 
what  was  dearer  to  him  than  life. 

Theodore  had  touched  the  right  chord. 
"God  help  you,  boy.  I  don't  want  to 
stand  in  your  way,"  said  a  rough  old  tar, 
extending  his  hand  to  the  excited  lad. 
"I  wish  I  was  as  far  on  the  right  track.77 

Theodore  seized  it  with  a  hearty  ex 
pression  of  gratitude. 

"Shall  we  join  hands  round,  that  we  11 
let  him  alone?'7  said  the  same  sailor,  turn 
ing  to  the  rest  of  the  crew. 

Every  palm  was  forthcoming  for  the 
pledge,  and  from  that  day  forward,  no 
direct  effort  was  made  to  lead  Theodore 
from  the  path  of  his  choice. 


THE  SICK-BED.  101 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  SICK-BED. 

THE  good  ship  Dolphin  was  leaping  as 
gaily  over  the  waves  as  leaped  the  hearts 
of  her  sailors  at  sight  of  land.  The  shores 
of  France  were  almost  reached,  and  the 
men  were  rejoicing  that  a  time  of  free 
dom  was  at  hand — a  time  of  riot  and  ca- 
rousal,  a  time  of  sinking  deeper  in  the 
sins  which  had  already  dragged  them 
far  down  on  the  way  to  ruin. 

Theodore  Gould  had  discovered  to  his 
sorrow  that  although  Captain  Glynn,  of 
the  ship  Dolphin,  was  blameless  as  to  his 
own  life,  he  did  not  dream  of  doing  any 
thing  more  than  enforcing  the  rules  of 
morality  on  board  his  vessel.  Not  one 
effort  had  he  made  to  lay,  in  the  hearts 
of  his  crew,  the  only  sure  foundation  of 


10^  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

a  virtuous  life,  not  one  effort  to  lead  them 
to  Him  who  is  the  only  hope,  the  only 
safeguard,  the  only  sanctifier  of  sinful 
men. 

Theodore  had  not  suffered  latterly  from 
direct  attempts  to  draw  him  into  tempta 
tion,  but  he  felt  that  the  habits  and  man 
ners  of  his  companions  were  ever  dim 
ming  the  true  light  in  his  soul.  Their 
presence  was  as  a  cloud  that  hid  from 
him  his  best  source  of  consolation,  and 
threatened  to  envelop  him  in  darkness. 
Welcome  indeed  to  him  was  the  thought 
of  being  at  liberty  to  have  at  least  a  sol 
itary  walk,  when  he  could  meditate  with 
out  the  sound  of  oaths  in  his  ears,  albeit 
he  should  be  a  stranger  in  a  foreign 
land. 

Theodore  was  not  now  to  tread  the 
French  soil.  When  the  Dolphin  cast 
anchor,  and  all  hands  were  rejoicing  that 
the  harbor  was  safely  reached,  Theodore 


THE  SICK-BED.  103 

was  lying  upon  his  bed  in  an  agony  of 
pain.  A  fall  down  the  hatchway  had 
so  bruised  and  shaken  his  whole  frame, 
that  Captain  Grlynn  declared  it  was  im 
possible  to  tell  where  he  was  hurt  most, 
and  there  was  no  hope  for  him  but  to  go 
to  a  hospital,  and  be  put  under  treat 
ment  as  soon  as  possible. 

Borne  on  a  litter  by  his  messmates, 
Theodore  was  placed  in  a  hospital,  where 
one  among  the  rows  of  sufferers,  he  await 
ed  his  share  of  attention  from  physicians 
and  nurses.  He  was  but  a  poor,  bruised 
sailor ;  he  had  no  claims  upon  the  special 
tenderness  or  interest  of  any  one  about 
him. 

Ah,  how  he  longed  then  to  have  his 
mother's  hand  on  his  brow,  or  to  hear 
his  sister  Ella  moving  gently  around  his 
couch  of  pain.  His  mother !  Should  he 
ever  live  to  ask  her  forgiveness?  Should 
he  ever  hear  her  words  of  counsel,  cheer- 


104  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

ing  Mm  on  his  Christian  course  ?  These 
were  trying  questions  to  Theodore,  yet 
again  and  again  they  recurred  to  him,  to 
have  the  same  sad,  doubtful  answer. 

Now  Theodore  saw  and  felt  with  bitter 
regret,  that  the  lingering  pride  of  his 
heart,  as  well  as  tenderness  for  his  moth 
er,  had  kept  him  from  appearing  before 
her,  disgraced  as  he  was,  to  ask  her  for 
giveness.  He  had  shrunk  from  the  course 
of  the  repentant  prodigal,  hoping  to  re 
turn,  clad,  not  in  the  rags  of  sin,  but  in 
the  better  garment  of  a  new  righteous 
ness. 

Who  can  tell  the  thoughts  that  try 
the  hearts  of  those  poor  sufferers,  among 
whom  the  hospital  nurses  move  so  calm- 
ly? 

To  die  alone  in  a  foreign  land,  with  no 
friendly  eye  to  shed  a  tear  over  his  life 
less  body,  this  seemed  to  Theodore  a 
hard  lot,  but  on  this  he  did  not  dwell, 


THE  SICK-BED.  105 

Better  thoughts  stole  gently  over  him. 
He  realized  that  there  was  One  at  his 
bedside,  more  loving  than  any  human 
friend,  even  the  merciful  Saviour,  who 
had  received  him  in  his  agony  of  repent 
ance,  and  had  called  him  his  own  for 
ever. 

"With  no  human  being  to  turn  to  in 
his  time  of  desolation,  Theodore  was  but 
drawn  the  nearer  to  Him  who  is  every 
where  present  to  cheer  and  console  all 
who  truly  ]ook  unto  him. 

It  was  almost  with  disappointment  that 
Theodore  heard  at  last,  that  his  life  was 
no  longer  in  danger,  and  that  for  him 
recovery  was  now  confidently  expected. 
He  had  dwelt  upon  death  as  his  certain 
portion,  and  safe  as  an  infant  in  its  moth 
er's  arms  had  seemed  his  soul  in  his  Sav 
iour's  keeping.  The  battle  fought,  the 
struggle  over,  temptation  for  ever  hushed, 
heaven  secured  through  the  One  Media- 


106  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

tor — these  had  been  Theodore's  glad  sub 
jects  of  meditation.  Almost  he  had  be 
held  the  gates  of  the  heavenly  city ;  yet 
he  was  to  turn  back  and  risk  again  the 
soul-destroying  influences  of  earth.  Con 
scious  of  his  own  weakness,  Theodore 
shrank  from  new  conflicts  with  tempta 
tion.  There  came  a  whisper  of  consola 
tion:  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 
"He  who  has  suffered  being  tempted,  is 
able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted.77 
To  such  promises  Theodore  clung  as  his 
only  hope.  What  other  hope  has  any 
human  soul  in  its  struggle  with  the  pow 
ers  of  evil  that  beset  the  earthly  pilgrim 
from  without  and  from  within? 

"I  will  return  to  my  quiet  home,  and 
in  some  retired  calling,  I  will  try  to  lead 
a  blameless  life.77  This  was  Theodore's 
first  resolution,  as  he  lay  in  the  weakness 
of  slow  convalescence. 

As  his  strength  rallied,  and  the  old 


THE  SICK-BED.  10T 

vigor  began  to  knit  again  Iris  physical 
frame,  other  thoughts  took  possession  of 
his  mind.  He  would  not  shrink  from 
the  conflict ;  he  would  rather  fight  on  the 
Lord's  side  in  the  way  of  life  that  had 
been  the  choice  of  his  boyhood.  Hence 
forward  he  would  be  consecrated  to  his 
Master's  service,  pledged  to  labor  for  the 
advancement  of  his  kingdom  on  sea  and 
land,  among  people  of  all  nations,  wher 
ever  the  providential  hand  should  lead 
him. 

There  was  an  influence  in  this  new 
purpose  that  gave  Theodore  a  new  mo 
tive  to  husband  his  returning  strength, 
and  to  put  forth  all  his  energy  towards  a 
recovery  which  should  make  him  sound 
in  body  and  mind,  to  do  the  work  set 
before  him. 

"Who  better  than  he  knew  the  dangers 
and  temptations  of  a  sailor's  life  ?  Who 
better  than  he  could  picture  the  horrors 


108  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

of  a  sailor's  lonely  death,  where  no  friend 
ly  voice  would  tell  him  of  the  love  of 
Jesus? 

Yes,  Theodore  Gould  chose  anew  the 
sailor's  life.  There  was  no  boyish  whim, 
there  was  no  mere  love  of  adventure 
prompting  him  now.  He  had  a  high  and 
noble  purpose  to  achieve.  He  had  a 
Master  to  serve  who  could  carry  him 
safe  through  all  temptations,  and  give 
him  power  to  plead  and  persuade  in  his 
name. 

"  Launch  thy  bark,  mariner  ! 

Christian,  God  speed  thee  ! 
Let  loose  the  rudder-band, 

Good  angels  lead  thee. 
Set  thy  sails  warily, 

Tempests  will  come  ; 
Steer  thy  course  steadily ; 

Christian,  steer  home  1" 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  109 


CHAPTEE   XYI. 

A  NEW  FRIEND. 

THEODORE  GOULD  was  bound  on  his 
homeward  voyage.  There  was  strength 
again  in  his  strong  hand,  and  a  healthful 
glow  on  his  cheek.  There  was  a  new 
buoyancy  in  his  step,  and  a  new  light  in 
his  eye.  He  was  as  distrustful  of  him 
self  as  when  he  put  his  foot  on  board  the 
Dolphin ;  but  he  had  learned  that  there 
was  a  mighty  One,  under  whose  protect 
ing  power  he  need  fear  no  evil. 

Eager  as  he  was  to  begin  his  good 
work,  he  had  as  yet  found  no  oppor 
tunity  to  take  the  first  step  in  the  career 
to  which  he  was  pledged.  He  rightly 
thought  that  a  stranger's  first  care,  in  the 
midst  of  ungodly  men,  should  be  to  show 
in  himself  a  faithful  performance  of  duty, 


110  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

and  so  to  win  respect  that  they  may  give 
him  a  hearing  when  he  shall  speak  in  the 
good  cause. 

Theodore  was  busy  on  the  deck  of  the 
11  Bonnie  Jean7'  among  a  group  of  his 
fellow-sailors.  Near  at  hand  was  Cap 
tain  Hook,  talking  with  two  of  the  pas 
sengers. 

"I  want  to  go  below  now,  mamma,77 
said  a  feeble  young  voice.  Theodore's 
attention  was  instantly  caught.  The 
speaker  was  a  pale  boy,  whose  face  alone 
was  visible  as  it  peered  from  the  mass  of 
blankets  in  which  he  was  wrapped.  As 
he  spoke,  his  eye  met  Theodore's.  The 
kindly  look  of  the  young  sailor  was  not 
to  be  mistaken. 

"Let  him  carry  me  down/7  said  the 
sick  boy,  nodding  his  head  towards  The 
odore.  A  word  from  the  captain  brought 
Theodore  promptly  forward.  He  put 
forth  his  strength  to  lift  the  prostrate 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  Ill 

figure,  but  it  rose  light  as  an  infant 
in  his  strong  arms.  It  was  long,  long 
since  Theodore  had  had  a  young  face  so 
close  to  his,  and  his  heart  yearned  tow 
ards  the  child  who  had  singled  him  out 
for  this  kindly  office.  Wasted  indeed 
must  be  the  form  that  could  be  so  easily 
borne.  Yet  the  pale  face  had  no  marks 
of  a  fretful,  complaining  spirit.  There 
was  a  look  of  peace  in  the  large,  light 
eyes,  and  the  thin  cheek  was  lovingly 
laid  on  Theodore's  breast. 

The  broad  chest  heaved  and  the  strong 
arms  trembled  as  the  last  step  was  taken, 
and  the  two  reached  the  cabin.  That 
little  helpless  form  had  grown  very  dear 
to  Theodore  in  those  few  moments,  and 
he  was  loath  to  part  with  the  loving  hu 
man  thing  which  had  so  turned  to  him. 

"Lay  him  on  the  settee  there,  if  you 
please/7  said  a  low,  pleasant  voice.  The 
tone  was  cheerful,  and  yet  it  told  how 


112  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

very  precious  was  the  burden  which 
Theodore  had  carried.  " That  will  do; 
thank  you ;"  and  the  mother  took  a  seat 
beside  the  child  whom  she  had  so  closely 
followed. 

"I  thank  you  too.  Wont  you  carry 
me  again?  I  like  the  way  you  hold  me, 
so  strong  and  so  kind,"  said  the  boy, 
with  an  affectionate  look  at  the  young 
sailor. 

"  Indeed  I  will.  Send  for  Theodore 
Gould,  and  I  shall  always  like  to  do  any 
thing  I  can  for  you/7  was  the  hearty 
reply. 

"My  name  is  Benny,"  said  the  child, 
fixing  his  eyes  upon  Theodore  with  evi 
dent  satisfaction. 

"Then  I  am  Benny's  horse,  always 
ready  to  give  him  a  ride,"  said  Theo 
dore  with  a  cheerful  smile,  as  he  bowed 
a.good-by  and  returned  to  his  duty  on 
deck.  Theodore  felt  almost  as  if  a  home, 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  113 

with  all  its  sweet  influences,  had  sprung 
up  for  him  in  the  ship  where  he  had 
but  a  few  hours  before  felt  so  like  a 
stranger. 

Benny  did  not  forget  his  new  friend's 
name,  nor  his  free  offers  to  be  at  his 
service.  It  soon  became  an  understood 
thing  that  when  Benny  was  to  be  moved, 
Theodore  was  to  be  called  upon,  and 
very  welcome  were  these  interviews  to 
Theodore's  affectionate  heart.  It  .was 
pleasant  for  him  to  have  some  one  to  be 
useful  to,  some  one  to  love  once  more. 

Theodore  had  placed  Benny  one  morn 
ing  in  a  sheltered  spot  on  deck,  and  was 
arranging  his  comforters  carefully  about 
him. 

"You  seem  very  fond  of  children. 
Perhaps  you  have  brothers  and  sisters 
at  home/7  said  Benny's  mother  with  an 
inquiring  glance. 

"I  had  a  brother  and  sister.     I  hope 

Blue  Flag.  8 


114  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

they  are  alive/7  said  Theodore  with  a 
full  heart. 

"Why  don't  you  go  and  see  them?77 
eagerly  inquired  Benny. 

UI  mean  to,  if  we  get  safe  to  land/7 
was  Theodore's  short  reply. 

"I  wouldn't  go  to  sea  any  more,  if  I 
was  you.  I  'd  stay  at  home.  I  do  n't  like 
the  sea;  do  you?"  persevered  Benny. 

"Yes,  I  love  the  sea,77  said  Theodore, 
looking  enthusiastically  out  on  the  roll 


ing  waves. 


"Is  that  what  makes  you  a  sailor?" 
asked  Benny,  as  much  to  keep  his  friend 
at  his  side  as  from  any  wish  for  a  sincere 
answer  to  his  question.  Theodore  was 
silent  for  a  moment.  Perhaps  the  time 
had  come  for  him  to  begin  his  work. 
He  spoke  earnestly  as  he  said,  "  I  mean 
to  be  a  sailor,  because  I  want  to  teach 
sailors  about  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  per 
suade  them  to  follow  him.77 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  115 

11 Is  that  it?"  exclaimed  Benny,  with  a 
gleam  of  unwonted  brightness.  "How 
do  you  do  it?  Shall  we  have  church  to 
morrow?  Do  you  preach?" 

Theodore  smiled  sorrowfully  as  he 
said,  "I  have  not  done  any  thing  yet, 
Benny.  How  do  you  think  I  had  better 
begin  ?" 

A  new  idea  had  taken  possession  of 
the  child's  mind,  and  on  that  he  was  bent. 

"Mamma,  mamma,  can't  we  have  wor 
ship  to-morrow  ?"  he  said  eagerly. 

"I  should  like  it  exceedingly,  my  son. 
The  Lord7s  day  ought  to  be  observed 
everywhere,  on  the  sea  as  well  as  on 
land.  I  believe  one  reason  sailors  so 
frequently  are  led  astray  is,  because 
they  lose  all  the  blessed  advantages  of 
Sunday.  We  must  ask  Captain  Hook 
about  it,  and  see  how  it  can  be  man 
aged." 

At  this  moment  Captain  Hook  drew 


116  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

near  the  little  group,  and  paused,  partly 
to  give  a  smile  to  Benny,  and  partly  to 
afford  Mr.  Parker,  the  pale  young  pas 
senger  on  his  arm,  an  opportunity  to 
draw  a  long  breath  after  the  exercise  he 
had  been  taking. 

"Oh,  Captain  Hook,  we  want  some 
thing  of  you,'7  exclaimed  Benny.  "  We 
want  to  have  worship  to-morrow.  May 
we?  Do  say  yes.77 

"I  shaVt  say  no,77  said  Captain  Hook, 
laughing;  "but  where  7s  your  parson? 
1 7m  too  old  a  sinner  myself  to  set  up  for 
a  preacher  Sundays.77 

"I  am  sorry  for  that,  captain,77  said 
Mr.  Parker.  "I7ve  been  talking  the 
same  thing  over  in  the  cabin,  but  there 
is  no  one  there  who  cares  to  assist  me. 
I  am  not  strong  enough  to  speak  many 
minutes  in  the  open  air,  but  I  would  not 
lose  such  an  opportunity  to  ask  Grod7s 
blessing  on  you  and  your  crew.77 


A  NEW  FRIEND.  lit 

"We  need  it  enough/7  said  the  cap 
tain  shortly. 

"  Perhaps/7  continued  the  stranger, 
"  there  may  be  some  one  among  your 
sailors  who  would  do  his  part  to  help  on 
the  good  work.  It  may  be  that  this 
young  man  would  read  a  passage  of 
Scripture  for  us,  and  give  a  few  words  of 
exhortation.  I  have  a  tract  with  me  that 
would  be  just  the  thing  for  the  occasion.77 

Theodore7s  earnest,  interested  look  had 
not  escaped  the  attention  of  the  speaker ; 
and  he  made  this  appeal  not  without  hope 
that  he  had  found  the  right  person  for  the 
duty  proposed. 

"He7s  just  the  one.  You  will,  wont 
you?77  said  Benny  eagerly. 

Theodore  paused  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  "With  Captain  Hook7s  permission, 
I  will,  sir.  I  will  gladly  do  what  I  can 
to  see  the  Lord7s  day  honored  and  made 
profitable.77 


118  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Captain  Hook  turned  quickly  to  The 
odore,  and  said,  "  You  have  my  permis 
sion  ;  but  I  give  you  warning,  young  man, 
that  if  you  take  such  a  stand  as  that  be 
fore  the  crew,  you  711  have  to  walk  straight 
enough,  or  they  '11  overhaul  you  and  post 
you  for  a  hypocrite  before  a  week  is  over. 
You  may  as  well  know  what  hot  coals 
you  '11  have  to  walk  on  before  you  make 
a  beginning.77 

"I  can  but  try  to  do  my  duty,  sir;  I 
do  n't  believe  my  messmates  will  be  hard 
upon  me,77  said  Theodore,  bowing  politely 
to  the  captain  as  he  retired. 


THE  SABBATH.  119 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  SABBATH. 

THE  looked-for  Sabbath  proved  a  fair, 
calm  day,  when  the  ship  moved  but  slow 
ly  on  through  the  sunny  air. 

The  call  of  "all  hands  on  deck7'  was 
promptly  obeyed.  It  had  been  rumored 
that  a  religious  service  was  to  be  held  at 
Benny's  request,  and  there  was  great  cu 
riosity  to  know  how  and  by  whom  it  was 
to  be  conducted.  "It  can't  be  Captain 
Hook  is  going  to  turn  preacher ;  practis 
ing  would  suit  him  better,  first."  "  Why, 
he  711  swear  right  out,  before  he  knows  it, 
as  sure  as  he  tries  to  speak  off-hand.77 
"He  7d  better  go  by  the  book,  if  he  ven 
tures  at  all.77  Such  exclamations  as  these 
were  heard  from  the  sailors  as  they  gath 
ered  in  an  orderly  file  upon  deck. 


120  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

A  table  and  a  chair  were  placed  oppo 
site  to  them,  while  Benny  and  his  moth 
er  were  comfortably  established  near  at 
hand. 

Mr.  Parker  soon  took  his  seat  in  the 
place  prepared  for  him.  Mr.  Parker  had 
lived  for  years  in  the  knowledge  that  he 
might  at  any  time  be  called  into  the  pres 
ence  of  his  Maker.  He  had  learned  to 
live  near  to  the  Lord  whom  he  was  soon 
to  see,  and  to  talk  to  him  as  one  talketh 
with  a  friend. 

His  prayer  was  the  outward  expres 
sion  of  the  simple,  earnest  wishes  of  his 
heart.  His  rough  hearers  felt  that  it  was 
a  real  address  to  a  real  person,  and  an 
unwonted  solemnity  stole  over  many  a 
weather-marked  countenance. 

Mr.  Parker  sat  down  exhausted  with 
the  effort  he  had  made,  but  peace  was  on 
his  every  feature  as  he  listened  to  the 
song  of  praise  which  Mrs.  Deland  now 


THE  SABBATH.  121 

commenced  with  her  own  clear,  sweet, 
single  voice.  Deep,  strong  voices  joined 
with  her  as  she  went  on,  while  Benny's 
slender  notes  were  heard  mingling  with 
the  harsher  tones,  as  if  an  angel  had 
shared  in  that  human  song. 

There  were  looks  of  astonishment,  and 
nudges  of  like  meaning,  as  Theodore  step 
ped  forward  when  the  hymn  was  over. 
He  took  up  the  Bible  from  the  table,  and 
first  read  St.  Luke's  account  of  the  storm 
on  the  sea  of  Galilee,  and  then  followed  it 
with  a  few  faithful  words  of  exhortation 
from  the  tract  that  had  been  placed  with 
in  the  volume.  There  was  courage  as 
well  as  modesty  in  Theodore's  manner 
as  he  began,  and  the  wondering  looks 
changed  to  glances  of  respect  as  he  went 
on.  It  was  not  alone  his  distinct,  em 
phatic  utterance,  or  his  earnest  appeal 
ing  manner,  that  gave  effect  to  his  read 
ing.  His  silent  prayers  were  going  up 


122  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

with  every  word  that  he  was  uttering, 
and  he  spoke  as  they  only  can  speak  who 
are  prompted  by  the  spirit  of  prayer. 

Theodore's  work  had  begun. 

That  evening  Theodore  was  walking 
the  deck,  with  Benny  in  his  arms.  The 
child  clung  to  him  with  new  fondness, 
and  now  seemed  ready  to  share  with 
him  his  every  thought. 

"Did  n't  we  have  a  nice  meeting,  The 
odore  ?"  said  Benny,  with  a  bright  smile 
on  his  pale  face.  The  boy  did  not  wait 
for  an  answer,  but  ran  on  as  his  thoughts 
prompted  him :  "I  like  to  hear  you  read, 
Theodore.  Your  voice  is  just  like  your 
arms,  strong  but  tender  too.  You  never 
seem  tired,  Theodore.  Your  father  must 
be  very  proud  of  you.  Is  n't  he  ?" 

"I  have  no  father,  Benny.  Perhaps 
it  is  just  as  well;  he  might  not  be  as 
proud  of  me  as  you  think,"  said  Theo 
dore,  sorrowfully. 


THE  SABBATH.  123 

Benny  looked  up  questioningly,  as  lie 
said,  "You  are  very  strong  and  well, 
and  very  good,  I'm  sure.  My  father 
would  give  all  lie  owns  to  have  me  strong 
and  well.  1 've  heard  him  say  so,  and 
he  's  very  rich,  you  know.  This  ship  is* 
his,  and  ever  so  many  more,  and  I  do  n't 
know  how  much  besides ;  and  yet,  he 
says  he  would  be  a  poor  man,  to  see  me 
strong  and  hearty,  like  other  boys.  Only 
think,  he  spared  mamma  to  go  away  to 
Paris  with  me,  to  see  if  the  doctors  could 
not  do  something  for  my  spine.  Poor 
papa.  He  staid  all  alone  for  nothing. 
They  could  n't  do  any  thing  for  me,  and 
so  mamma  has  to  take  me  back  just  as  I 
caine.  I  don't  mind  it  for  myself.  I 
am  used  .to  it;  but  I  wish  papa  had  a 
great  strong  son,  like  you.  How  proud 
he  would  be  of  you.  How  he  would  love 
you." 

"Dear  Benny,  you  make  me  feel  very 


124  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

much  ashamed,"  said  Theodore,  sadly. 
"If  my  mother  had  a  son  just  like  you, 
he  would  not  have  given  her  half  the 
pain  that  I  have.  Benny,  a  bad  son  is 
far  worse  than  a  dear  sufferer  like  you. 
I  have  done  very,  very  wrong,  Benny, 
and  I  am  going  home  to  ask  my  mother 
to  forgive  me,  and  to  tell  her  that  I  want 
to  be  a  good  Christian  sailor  now,  and 
persuade  every  body  I  sail  with  to  love 
the  Lord  Jesus.  Do  you  think  she  will 
forgive  me,  Benny ?" 

"I  know  she  will.  She  can't  help  lov 
ing  you ;"  and  Benny  tightened  his  grasp 
round  the  neck  of  his  friend. 

"  You  see,  Benny,  it  is  not  the  worst 
misfortune  to  be  feeble  like  you.  You 
must  remember  that  if  you  had  been 
strong  and  well,  you  might  have  been 
tempted  to  go  wrong  as  I  have,  and  then, 
Oh,  how  dreadfully  you  would  have  to 
suffer,  even  in  this  world,  every  time  you 


THE  SABBATH.  125 

thought  of  it.  It  is  a  sad,  sad  thing  to 
go  contrary  to  all  you  have  been  taught, 
and  to  sink  down,  down  into  sin." 

Theodore's  manner  was  so  earnest,  that 
Benny  shuddered  and  said,  "I  should  not 
want  to  be  wicked.  It  makes  me  very 
sorry  now  when  I  do  wrong,  but  I  do  n't 
fret  about  it.  Mamma  says  we  need  not 
worry  about  things  that  are  gone  by,  if 
we  truly  repent  of  them.  She  says  all 
the  past  is  wiped  out,  all  wiped  out,  for 
the  Lord  Jesus'  sake." 

As  Benny  spoke,  he  passed  his  thin 
hand  across  Theodore's  forehead,  and 
smoothed  out  the  deep  lines  that  had  un 
consciously  knit  themselves  there,  as  the 
bitter  memories  were  roused  within. 

"  All  wiped  out,  all  washed  away,  for 
the  Lord  Jesus'  sake."  This  was  the  les 
son  which  Theodore  needed  to  learn ;  and 
Benny's  simple  faith  made  him  a  blessed 
teacher  of  this  message  of  mercy. 


126  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ALMOST  HOME. 

THERE  were  no  more  Sunday  services 
on  board  the  "  Bonnie  Jean/7  no  more 
pleasant  groups  on  deck,  no  more  cheer 
ful  gatherings  to  see  the  sun  go  down  in 
a  golden  glory  of  sea  and  sky. 

Keen  winds  and  rolling  waves  were 
buffeting  the  "  Bonnie  Jean/7  not  speed 
ing  her  on  her  course ;  and  only  the  ex 
perienced  sailors  could  keep  their  foot 
ing  on  her  rocking,  heaving  deck. 

Benny  saw  but  little  now  of  his  friend, 
and  yet  these  short  interviews  were  very 
precious  to  them  both.  It  was  a  treat  to 
the  poor  lad  to  be  carried  for  a  few  mo 
ments  into  the  fresh  air,  and  to  hear 
Theodore  tell  some  pleasant  anecdote  of 


ALMOST  HOME.  127 

Binnings  of  the  Blue  Flag,  or  some  sweet 
er  scripture  story,  learned  at  Sunday- 
school  long  ago. 

These  few  moments  of  intercourse  with 
Benny  were  to  Theodore  as  glimpses  of 
home,  and  his  heart  throbbed  as  he  thought 
that  the  time  was  drawing  near  when  his 
own  brother's  voice  would  be  in  his  ears, 
and  his  mother's  words  of  forgiveness 
might  blend  with  a  blessing  on  her  re 
pentant  son. 

Home !  Was  Theodore  ever  to  see  the 
dear  faces  at  his  distant  fireside  ?  Was 
he  ever  to  tread  again  the  loved  soil  of 
his  native  land? 

Some  days  had  passed  since  Benny 
had  enjoyed  even  a  glimpse  at  Theodore. 
Ah,  the  sailors  on  board  the  "  Bonnie 
Jean/7  had  now  no  time  for  tender,  lov 
ing  offices  to  the  timid  and  the  feeble. 
There  was  rougher  work  for  their  hands 
to  do,  work  that  made  the  blood  come, 


128  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

as  they  strove  to  move  the  ice-clad  ropes, 
and  bend  the  ship  to  obey  their  will. 

Landsmen  may  smile  as  they  see  tree 
and  shrub,  rock  and  mound,  taking  on  a 
crystal  garment,  that  shall  shine  with 
diamond  brightness  when  the  sleet  shall 
cease  to  fall,  the  storm-wind  die  away, 
and  the  sun  come  forth  in  its  glory. 

Not  so  with  the  sailor.  He  knows  the 
brilliant  casing  that  holds  mast  and  sail, 
rope  and  rudder,  as  with  a  grasp  of  iron, 
is  for  him  a  terrible  enemy. 

Captain  Hook's  face  grew  dark  and 
desperate  as  the  ice-storm  added  each 
moment  new  stiffness  to  the  already  rigid 
ropes.  His  orders  were  given  in  a  louder, 
harsher  tone,  and  his  fearful  oaths  came 
thick  and  fast,  as  he  saw  his  men  power 
less  to  execute  them. 

The  poor  fellows  worked  on  bravely, 
though  the  frost  was  taking  its  keen  hold 
upon  them,  until  feet  and  hands  were 


ALMOST  HOME.  129 

thrilling  in  an  agony  of  pain.  Among 
these  faithful,  unflinching  laborers,  The 
odore  was  foremost,  and  untiring  in  his 
efforts.  As  the  hope  of  safely  reaching 
his  home  and  his  mother  once  more 
grew  dim,  he  encouraged  himself  with 
the  thought,  that  if  death  were  to  smite 
him,  he  would  be  found  at  his  post  by 
the  stern  messenger,  faithful  in  what  was 
committed  to  him,  even  to  the  end. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  the  rocky 
shores  of  our  unkindly  coast  were  hidden 
from  the  captain's  eager,  piercing  eyes ; 
yet  there  was  a  sorrowful  certainty  at 
his  heart,  that  the  " Bonnie  Jean"  was 
drifting  towards  a  shore  where  many  a 
brave  ship  had  gone  down,  mid  the  wild 
shrieks  of  the  perishing  crew. 

The  extent  of  the  danger  was  not  fully 
known  in  the  cabin;  yet  enough  of  it 
was  guessed  to  call  forth  prayers  from 
those  who  had  never  prayed  before,  and 


130  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

to  whiten  with  terror  countenances  that 
were  wont  to  smile  amid  the  gay  scenes 
of  worldly  pleasure. 

Mr.  Parker  and  Benny  and  his  mother 
were  wrapt  in  a  sweet  calm,  in  this  time 
of  alarm.  They  had  committed  them 
selves  to  the  keeping  of  a  merciful  Sav 
iour  before  daring  the  dangers  of  the  sea, 
and  on  Him  they  now  calmly  relied, 
either  for  a  safe  return  to  earthly  friends, 
or  for  a  sure  entrance  to  the  blessed  coun 
try  where  there  is  no  more  death. 

Morning  was  breaking,  and  through 
the  mist  the  captain  could  see  the  cliffs 
he  so  much  dreaded.  Scarcely  was  he 
sure  of  his  position,  when  there  was  a 
shock  and  a  crash  that  made  the  "  Bonnie 
Jean  "  tremble  and  quiver  from  keel  to  top 
mast.  She  had  struck.  The  sharp  rocks 
had  crushed  in  her  strong  frame-work, 
and  she  would  soon  be  a  helpless  wreck. 

Towards  one  thing  Captain  Hook  had 


ALMOST  HOME.  131 

turned  his  attention  when  he  found  that 
the  ice  had  rendered  the  vessel  per 
fectly  unmanageable.  The  strong  axes 
of  the  men  had  been  plied  to  set  the 
boats  free,  and  to  keep  them  fit  for  ser 
vice,  and  now  they  were  instantly  low 
ered.  The  crew  rushed  forward  to  fill 
them,  but  Captain  Hook  swung  an  axe 
round  his  head  to  keep  a  clear  path, 
while  Theodore  conveyed  the  helpless 
passengers  into  the  boat  which  was  first 
to  leave  the  ship. 

"G-o  down  with  him,  Theodore.  Do 
your  best  to  save  him/7  said  Captain 
Hook,  as  Theodore  passed  him  with  Ben 
ny  in  his  arms.  "Tell  his  father  I  was 
true  to  my  duty,  and  did  my  best  for 
his  wife  and  child.77 

These  were  Captain  Hook's  words  as 
Theodore  clasped  Benny  closer  to  his 
breast  and  sustained  Mrs.  Deland's  droop 
ing  form. 


132  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  dwell  on 
the  hours  of  acute  physical  suffering  and 
agonized  suspense  which  these  poor  ship 
wrecked  travellers  endured  before  they 
were  cast  upon  the  shore,  and  struggled 
through  the  surging  waves  to  the  land. 

We  will  not  count  the  strong  swim 
mers,  who  vainly  beat  the  chilling  waves, 
and  went  down  at  last  to  their  endless 
doom. 

Ah,  who  more  than  a  sailor  needs 
early  to  make  his  peace  with  God? 
Whose  life  is  edged  about  with  so  many 
and  great  dangers  ?  Who,  more  than  the 
storm-tossed  sailor,  needs,  nay,  deserves 
the  landsman's  loving,  outstretched  hand 
to  point  him  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  to 
beckon  him  towards  the  only  eternal 
harbor  of  safety? 

Drenched,  shivering,  and  exhausted, 
Mrs.  Deland  stood  upon  the  snow-clad 
shore;  yet  her  heart  was  glowing  with 


ALMOST  HOME.  133 

thankful  praise  to  her  almighty  Deliv 
erer. 

Theodore  stood  beside  her  with  her 
precious  Benny  clasped  in  his  arms. 

"His  father  has  not  lost  him,7'  said 
Mrs.  D  eland,  looking  tenderly  into  Ben 
ny's  pale  face — the  thought  of  her  own 
possible  affliction  quite  forgotten  in  the 
remembrance  of  what  it  would  have 
been  to  another,  thrice  dearer  than  self. 

A  little  band  of  shivering  sailors  stood 
around  the  passengers,  and  urged  them 
to  move  on  to  some  place  of  shelter. 

Along  the  pathless  shore  they  trod, 
straining  their  eyes  in  the  hope  of  spy 
ing  some  poor  hovel,  some  wayside  cot 
tage,  where  they  could  see  once  more  the 
firelight  and  feel  the  cheering  warmth. 

Theodore  spoke  not  of  the  numbness 
that  seemed  to  press  upon  him  like  an 
iron  case.  He  clasped  his  precious 
charge  more  closely,  and  moved  steadily 


134  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

but  silently  on.  There  was  but  one  voice 
to  speak  in  all  that  stricken  party,  and 
that  was  from  the  weakest,  and  in  his 
own  eyes  the  least  of  all. 

"Never  fear,  mother,  we  shall  get  on 
nicely  now.  The  Lord  will  take  care  of 
us.  We  shall  soon  come  to  a  house. 
Father  will  be  so  glad  to  see  us.'7 

Benny's  hopeful  sentences  fell  with  a 
cheering  influence  upon  his  chilled  lis 
teners,  and  they  stepped  forward  with 
new  courage.  It  would  not  do  for  hardy 
men  to  be  disheartened  when  a  feeble 
child  could  talk  so  bravely. 

"Yes,  let  them  carry  you,  mother; 
that  is  nice ;"  and  Benny  smiled  as  two 
kindly  sailors  insisted  upon  Mrs.  De- 
land's  allowing  them  to  bear  her  through 
the  snow-drifts,  that  were  blocking  the 
the  way. 

Dreary  snow-drifts  they  were ;  but 
beyond  them  rose  a  blue  and  gilt  curl- 


ALMOST  HOME.  135 

ing,  upward  line,  that  even  in  the  dis 
tance  seemed  to  warm  the  blood  and  re 
vive  the  energies  of  the  weary,  benumbed, 
and  almost  desperate  mariners. 

It  was  a  poor  place  indeed,  that  hut 
by  the  sea-shore,  and  rough  and  coarse 
were  its  inmates ;  yet  there  the  travellers 
found  a  glowing  fire  and  a  kindly  wel 
come.  There  Benny's  "Thank  God,  we 
are  safe,7'  was  echoed  by  more  than  one 
rude  heart. 


136  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

BINNINGS  AGAIN. 

11  You  ought  not  to  go  out,  Binnings.77 

"But  I  must,  Mrs.  Coney.77 

"  You  '11  certainly  fall ;  it  7s  as  slippery 
as  glass,77  said  Jennet,  with  an  appealing 
look. 

"No  matter  how  slippery  it  is,  I  can7t 
stay  at  home  this  morning.  There  711  be 
poor  shipwrecked  fellows  coming  into 
town,  who,  may  be,  wont  know  where  to 
find  the  Blue  Flag,  or  the  hand  of  an 
honest  friend.  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Coney, 
there  are  times  when  a  man  can7t  think 
about  himself.  The  'Bonnie  Jean7  was 
in  my  mind  all  night,  and  I  couldn't 
stand  it  to  sit  here  by  my  good  fire, 
without  knowing  more  about  those  poor 
fellows.77 


BINNINGS  AGAIN.  137 

Binnings  moved  to  get  his  shaggy  coat 
and  his  well-tried  cane. 

Jennet  did  not  spring  as  usual  to  wait 
upon  him.  She  sat  by,  looking  as  much 
as  to  say,  "If  you  will  go  out  such  a  day, 
I  am  going  to  have  no  hand  in  helping 

you." 

When  Binnings  was  thoroughly  equip 
ped,  he  playfully  put  up  his  wooden  pin 
to  the  fire  as  if  to  warm  it,  and  as  he  saw 
the  smile  he  wanted  on  Jennet's  face, 
he  said,  "  You  11  forgive  me  before  I  go, 
wont  you,  Jennet,  and  wish  me  well?77 
Jennet  looked  anxious,  but  not  unfor 
giving.  At  that  moment  there  was  the 
sound  of  a  sleigh  stopping  at  the  door, 
and  immediately  afterwards  Gideon  came 
in,  his  face  glowing  with  health  and  pleas 
ure,  as  he  said,  "Oh,  Binnings,  I  am  so 
glad  I  got  here  in  time.  I  was  sure  you 
would  keep  your  word  when  you  said  at 
breakfast  that  you  should  go  out  this 


138  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

morning.  It  is  n't  fit  for  you  to  take  a 
step  on  the  pavement ;  why,  it 's  all  one 
sheet  of  ice,  just  as  it  was  yesterday.  I 
went  as  quick  as  I  could  to  Jerry  Bright's, 
the  old  hackman,  whose  son  you  took  in 
that  stormy  night,  when  he  was  almost 
frozen.  It  did  my  heart  good  to  hear 
the  old  chap  talk  about  you.  He  said 
he  'd  rather  lend  his  sleigh  to  you,  than 
to  let  it  twenty  times  over.  And  so  here 
it  is,  all  ready  for  you  to  jump  in,  and  go 
where  you  please. 

"A  thousand  thanks  to  Jerry  Bright, 
and  to  you  too,  Mr.  Gideon, "  said  Bin- 
nings,  giving  his  tarpaulin  a  swing,  as  he 
bowed  low.  "The  sleigh  is  the  very 
thing.  May  be  I  '11  have  a  chance  to  pay 
you  both  with  a  good  turn,  one  of  these 
days." 

"  For  shame !  We  are  both  more  than 
paid  beforehand,"  said  Grideon,  warmly. 

"I  suppose  you'll  say  good-by  to  me 


BINNINGS  AGAIN.  139 

now,  Jennet,"  said  Binnings,  as  lie  nodded 
his  parting,  and  then  went  ont  cheerily. 

Binnings  was  not  much  of  a  "whip;" 
but  the  steady  old  horse  seemed  able  to 
keep  the  road,  while  the  honest  sailor 
held  the  reins  loose  in  his  hands,  as 
they  moved  slowly  along.  From  time 
to  time,  Binnings  stopped  to  inquire  for 
news  of  the  crew  of  the  "  Bonnie  Jean ;" 
but  no  one  could  give  him  satisfactory 
answers. 

Binnings  was  driving  along  the  wharves 
when  a  group  of  distressed-looking  sail 
ors  at  once  attracted  his  attention.  ' '  Hal 
loo  there!"  he  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
voice.  "Where  are  you  bound?  Here, 
somebody  hold  my  horse." 

Binnings  tumbled  out  of  the  sleigh, 
and  was  among  them  in  a  few  moments, 
and  shaking  them  by  the  hand  as  if  they 
were  his  dearest  friends.  "From  the 
'  Bonnie  Jean/  I  dare  say.  Glad  to  see 


140  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

you.  Had  a  hard  time,  didn't  you? 
Thank  God,  you  got  safe  through.77 

There  was  no  resisting  Binnings7 
hearty,  sincere  manner.  Poor  fellows 
who  had  felt  desolate  and  friendless  the 
moment  before,  were  warmed  and  cheer 
ed  by  his  greeting. 

Binnings  had  not  done  speaking  when 
a  stalwart,  brown-cheeked  youth  stepped 
up  to  him  and  exclaimed,  "It  must  be 
Binnings  of  the  Blue  Flag.  If  it  7s  you, 
Binnings,  you  711  ^remember  Theodore 
Gould,  1 7m  sure.77 

" Remember  Theodore  Gould!  May 
I  never  forget  him,  or  his  mother  either,77 
said  Binnings,  as  he  actually  put  both 
arms  round  the  neck  of  the  astonished 
sailor.  "Why,  boy,  I  didn7t  know  you. 
You  7ve  grown  a  foot,  and  you  are  look 
ing  so  well,  for  all  what  you've  gone 
through.  It  7s  all  right  with  you,  Theo 
dore.  I  see  it.  Thank  God!  You  Ve 


BINNINGS  AGAIN.  141 

stuck  by  your  colors.  I  don't  need  any 
body  to  tell  me  that.77 

"My  mother!77  murmured  Theodore. 
"Can  you  tell  me  any  thing  of  her?77 

"Well  and  hearty.  The  best  woman 
living.  Heard  from  her  last  week.  Turn 
into  the  sleigh,  and  we'll  go  right  to  the 
'Blue  Flag,7  and  Mrs.  Coney 711  know 
how  to  get  the  chill  out  of  you.  Come 
on,  boys.  You  7ve  only  got  to  follow 
your  noses,  and  make  a  straight  track 
to  the  right,  until  you  come  to  a  house 
where  a  blue  flag  hangs  out,  and  you  711 
get  a  warm  dinner  and  a  warm  welcome, 
and  a  warm  bed  too,  and  any  thing  else 
you  like  but  a  warm  toddy.  We  do  n7t 
give  out  such  things  at  the  Blue  Flag, 
except  in  special  cases.  Will  you  come 
on?  Do  you  think  you  can  find  the 
way?77 

"Aye,  aye,77  responded  the  sailors  as 
they  started  off  in  the  direction  indicated. 


142  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

If  Binnings'  kindly  manner  needed 
any  guarantee  for  its  sincerity,  the  sail 
ors  felt  that  they  had  it  in  Theodore's 
evident  satisfaction  at  meeting  with  his 
cheerful  friend.  A  man  loved  and  trust 
ed  by  Theodore  Gould  could  be  relied  on. 

It  was  a  source  of  deep  joy  to  Bin- 
nings  to  see  Theodore  face  to  face,  and 
to  learn  from  him  that  he  had  persevered 
in  the  Christian  course  commenced  at  the 
Blue  Flag.  Yet  the  honest  sailor's  joy 
was  doubled  at  the  thought  of  the  good 
news  in  store  for  Theodore's  mother,  who 
had  so  bravely  borne  up  against  anxious 
misgivings  since  she  had  heard  the  glad 
tidings  of  her  son's  repentance  and  new 
resolutions. 

As  they  drove  along  the  streets  of  the 
busy  town,  Theodore  heard  of  faithful 
Binnings7  visit  to  his  own  dear  home, 
and  tasted  the  sweets  of  reconciliation 
even  before  he  beheld  his  mother's  face. 


BINNINGS  AGAIN.  143 

She  had  freely  forgiven  him  all.  With 
her,  the  past  was  all  wiped  away.  Why 
should  he  doubt  that  the  One  more  pure, 
more  holy,  more  loving,  could  as  freely 
blot  out  his  transgressions,  and  receive 
him  to  the  arms  of  eternal  mercy? 
Blessed  thoughts  were  these.  For  the 
first  time,  Theodore  embraced  in  its  ful 
ness  the  abundant  pardon  by  which  those 
who  are  reconciled  in  Christ  Jesus  stand 
before  the  throne  without  spot,  accepted 
in  the  Beloved. 

Very  different  was  Theodore's  second 
entrance  at  the  Blue  Flag  from  his  first 
introduction  to  its  sheltering  roof.  Eeady 
hands  were  outstretched  to  welcome  him, 
and  kind  hearts  spoke  their  joy  at  his 
return.  He  was  no  more  a  wandering 
prodigal,  but  a  Christian  brother,  saved 
from  the  dangers  of  the  sea  to  offer 
thanksgivings  with  them  who  had  sent 
forth  the  wing  of  prayer  to  hover  pro- 


144  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

tectingly  over  him  in  the  midst  of  perils 
of  body  and  soul. 

"A  poor  shipwrecked  sailor,  weary, 
penniless,  and  afar  from  the  home  of 
his  childhood  :7'  so  the  world  would  have 
spoken  of  Theodore  Gould.  Perchance 
the  sentimental  might  have  shed  tears  of 
sorrow  over  his  desolate  condition.  But 
how  felt  he?  How  looked  he  to  the 
angels  then? 

"J°y>  J°y>  J°y!7?  "Praise,  praise, 
praise!77  These  were  the  strong  emo 
tions  that  were  throbbing  in  Theodore's 
heart. 

He  had  gone  forth  in  weakness,  bare 
ly  clinging  to  the  cross.  He  had  re 
turned  with  the  peace  of  God  filling  his 
soul  to  overflowing.  Truly,  the  Blue 
Flag  was  to  him  now  a  Bethel,  where  he 
set  up  an  altar,  and  offered  anew  his 
whole  being  as  a  living,  perpetual  sacri 
fice  to  the  loving,  merciful  God  who 


BINNINGS  AGAIN.  145 

had  pardoned  Ms  transgressions,  watched 
over  him  in  temptation,  and  brought  him 
in  safety  to  the  haven  where  he  would  be. 
Angels  could  rejoice  over  that  ship 
wrecked  sailor,  who  with  his  poor  human 
soul  was  joining  in  their  eternal  song  of 
praise  to  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Grhost. 


Blue  Flag.  1  0 


146  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

AN  INTERVIEW. 

WHEN  Theodore  had  been  thoroughly 
warmed  and  welcomed  at  the  Blue  Flag, 
he  began  to  talk  of  starting  at  once  to 
go  to  his  mother.  "That  wont  do,"  said 
Binnings,  decidedly.  "She  couldn't 
stand  such  good  news  coming  on  her  at 
once.  Send  her  a  letter,  telling  her 
you  Ve  got  in  safely — never  a  w^ord 
about  the  'Bonnie  Jean/  mind  you — and 
then  follow  it  up  as  soon  as  you  please. 
She  isn't  the  strongest  woman  in  the 
world,  you  see.'7 

"She  has  had  a  great  deal  to  bear," 
said  Theodore,  sorrowfully,  as  he  re 
membered  how  much  his  own  course 
must  have  contributed  towards  making 


AN  INTERVIEW.  147 

her  prematurely  old.  "  Perhaps  you  are 
right,  Binnings ;  but  I  do  so  yearn  to  see 
her  once  more.77 

"It's  likely  you  do ;  and  you'd  better 
let  Grideon  go  out  now  and  take  your 
place  in  the  stage  for  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  to  make  your  mind  easy ;  and  then 
we  must  fix  you  up  a  little.77 

Binnings  brought  out  a  complete  sail 
or's  wardrobe,  and  said  smiling,  "It's 
your  own,  Theodore,  sent  by  your  own 
mother,  to  be  given  to  somebody  who 
needed  it.  I  reckon  I  could  not  please 
her  better  than  by  giving  it  to  you. 
Every  now  and  then  comes  a  box  from 
her  with  things  in  it  for  shipwrecked 
sailors.  It  seems  as  if  her  heart  was 
bound  up  now  in  doing  for  the  tars,  one 
way  or  another.77 

The  tears  stood  in  Theodore's  eyes  as 
he  listened.  He  well  understand  how  it 
eased  his  mother's  anxious  heart  to  be 


148  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

laboring  for  the  companions  of  her  son 
upon  the  great  sea. 

" There  now,  you  look  just  right:  a 
sailor,  a  right  down  sailor,  but  all  trim, 
fit  to  speak  to  any  body/7  said  Binnings, 
as  he  surveyed  Theodore  after  he  had 
had  the  comfort  of  a  thorough  bath,  and 
reappeared  clad  in  his  new  suit.  Jennet 
and  Mrs.  Coney  were  not  as  loud  in  their 
praise,  but  their  eyes  spoke  their  ap 
proval,  and  they  silently  thought  Theo 
dore,  with  his  frank,  fine  face,  as  noble- 
looking  a  specimen  of  a  sailor  as  it  had 
ever  been  their  good  fortune  to  see. 

Mrs.  Coney  always  had  two  ears ;  and 
whatever  one  might  be  hearing  close  at 
hand,  the  other  was  sure  to  be  on  the 
watch  to  know  if  all  was  going  right  in 
the  other  part  of  the  house.  Now  she 
listened  a  moment,  and  then  said  quick 
ly,  "Binnings,  you  had  better  go  and 
see  what 's  up  in  there.  The  sailors  of 


AN  INTERVIEW.  149 

the  '  Bonnie  Jean ?  seem  to  have  come  to 
wonderfully." 

There  did  seem  to  be  no  small  stir 
among  the  poor  fellows,  who  had  by  this 
time  been  thoroughly  warmed  and  com 
fortably  clad  at  the  Blue  Flag. 

Binnings  instantly  disappeared,  but 
soon  came  back,  accompanied  by  a  stout 
middle-aged  man,  whose  bearing  and 
strongly  marked  features  pronounced 
him  a  person  of  energy  and  resolution, 
while  his  delicate  complexion  and  the 
pleasant  play  as  of  an  habitual  smile 
about  his  mouth  told  of  a  refined  and 
loving  nature,  still  having  its  sway,  in 
spite  of  the  cares  and  temptations  of  ac 
tive  life. 

"This  is  Theodore  Grould,  sir/7  said 
Binnings,  pointing  to  the  young  sailor, 
with  evident  satisfaction.  Theodore  was 
astonished  at  the  hearty  way  in  which  his 
hand  was  taken  in  both  of  the  stranger's, 


150  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

and  at  the  emotion  that  agitated  his  fine 
face,  as  he  said, 

"God  bless  you.  God  bless  you  for 
your  care  of  my  poor  wife,  and  my  dar 
ling  Benny.'7 

"Mr.  Deland,"  exclaimed  Theodore, 
in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Deland ;  the  man  who  owes 
more  to  you  than  he  ever  can  repay. 
What  that  dear  boy  is  to  me,  no  words 
can  tell." 

"And  no  wonder,  sir.  He  isn't  like 
any  body  else/7  said  Theodore,  warmly. 
"The  very  look  of  his  eye  does  one  good. 
You  don't  owe  me  any  thing,  sir.  What 
I  did,  I  did  for  one  I  loved.  Is  he  do 
ing  well?77 

"He7s  snug  by  the  fireside,  as  cheer 
ful  and  lovely  as  if  he  had  not  a  care  or 
pain  in  the  world.  He  wants  to  see  you, 
and  begged  me  to  ask  you  to  come  at 
once  to  him.  We  live  only  five  miles 


AN  INTERVIEW.  151 

from  town.  Will  you  go  out  with  me  to 
night?  Mrs.  Deland  says  she  feels  she 
has  a  right  to  you.  She  will  not  rest 
till  she  sees  you  in  her  own  home." 

"I  thank  you  warmly;  but  I  must  see 
my  mother  before  I  go  anywhere  else/7 
said  Theodore,  quickly.  "But  for  Bin- 
nings  I  should  be  on  my  way  home  at 
once:77 

"J  kept  him  until  he  sent  a  letter  first. 
Joy  kills  sometimes,  you  know,  sir,  as 
well  as  trouble.  I  was  afraid  to  risk  his 
going  in  upon  them  at  once,77  said  Bin- 
nings. 

" Eight,  very  right,77  said  Mr.  Deland; 
but  it  was  plain  that  some  thought  was 
troubling  his  mind. 

Mr.  Deland  had  meant  to  satisfy  his 
feelings  in  some  measure,  by  giving  The 
odore  a  golden  reward ;  now  as  the  young- 
sailor  stood  there  before  him,  he  felt  it 
quite  impossible  to  offer  him  such  gifts 


152  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

as  had  been  noisily  and  heartily  acknow 
ledged  by  his  messmates,  in  the  common 
room  hard  by. 

Mr.  Deland  was  puzzled.  He  could 
not  be  satisfied  with  mere  words  as  an 
evidence  of  his  gratitude,  and  yet  he  was 
sure  that  any  thing  else,  just  now,  would 
give  more  pain  than  pleasure. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Mr.  Deland 
said  warmly,  "Remember,  young  man, 
we  have  a  claim  upon  you.  You  must 
tell  your  mother  that  we  will  not  ask  her 
to  spare  you  from  her  side ;  but  if  she 
will  come  with  you  to  us,  she  shall  have 
a  hearty  welcome.  May  I  tell  Benny 
you  promise  him  a  visit?77 

"Certainly,  sir.  I  long  to  see  the 
dear  boy  again.  Please  present  my  re 
spects  to  Mrs.  Deland,  and  thank  her 
for  her  kind  invitation.77 

With  another  warm  shake  of  his  hand 
Mr.  Deland  withdrew,  dissatisfied  with 


AN  INTERVIEW.  153 

his  short  interview.  He  could  not  say 
what  he  would,  he  could  not  carry  out 
the  generous  desires  of  his  heart.  Beck 
oning  to  Binnings  to  follow  him,  he  lin 
gered  in  the  vestibule. 

"I  cannot  offer  that  noble  young  fel 
low  money,77  he  said;  "yet  I  know  that 
in  his  anxiety  to  save  my  Benny,  he 
saved  nothing  for  himself.  Take  this 
purse  and  make  him  comfortable. 

Binnings  turned  away  from  the  purse 
as  he  answered,  "  While  the  Blue  Flag 
hangs  out,  Theodore  Gould  has  a  free 
ticket  here.  I  wouldn't  see  the  boy 
want  while  John  Binnings  had  a  dollar 
in  the  bank.  He  7s  my  child,  as  it  were ; 
my  child  in  the  Lord.  I  have  money 
too,  here,  ready  for  him.  His  mother 
sent  it  for  shipwrecked  sailors ;  bless  her 
soul.  It  belongs  of  right  to  him.77 

Binnings  saw  Mr.  D eland 's  look  of 
disappointment,  and  hastened  to  add, 


154  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"Give  it  to  the  sailors,  sir,  and  that  will 
ease  your  mind.  That  will  please  Theo 
dore  too.  May  I  tell  him  you  left  this  to 
help  keep  up  the  Blue  Flag,  that  the  poor 
tars  may  have  a  Christian  home  to  come 
to?" 

"With  all  my  heart;  and  there  will 
be  more  to  add  to  it.  I  have  never  half 
done  my  duty  for  sailors.  I  should  not 
have  found  Theodore  out,  if  Benny  hadn't 
told  me  of  his  love  for  the  Blue  Flag,  and 
all  about  Binnings  too.  In  his  eagerness 
to  get  my  wife  and  Benny  off  safely  in 
the  first  sled  that  could  be  rigged  up, 
Theodore  did  not  tell  them  where  he 
should  be  when  he  was  able  to  follow.  I 
have  found  him  now  though,  and  I  do  n't 
mean  to  give  him  up.  I  may  have  some 
way  of  helping  him  on,  that  he  will  not 
refuse  from  Benny's  father.'7 

"  Where  there 's  a  will,  there 's  a  way,'7 
said  Binnings  cheerily.  "He  trusts  you 


AN  INTERVIEW.  155 

and  believes  you,  sir.  I  could  see  it  in 
his  eye.  Let  him  have  the  satisfaction 
of  enjoying  your  gratitude  now,  and  do 
what  you  please  afterwards.  That  would 
be  my  way.77 

"  And  a  good  way  too,  I  believe/7  said 
Mr.  D  eland,  as  with  another  hearty  shake 
of  the  hand  he  turned  his  back  on  the 
Blue  Flag. 


156  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

PRAYERS. 


did  not  find  Theodore  a  talk 
ative  visitor  that  evening  at  the  Blue 
Flag.  It  was  plain  that  the  young  man's 
thoughts  were  far  away,  and  his  kind  host 
did  not  try  to  draw  him  into  unnecessary 
conversation.  Indeed,  honest  Binnings 
was  almost  sorry  he  had  curbed  the  son's 
eager  longing  to  go  at  once  to  his  mother. 
11  1  meant  for  the  best,"  said  Binnings  to 
himself,  as  he  looked  from  over  his  news 
paper  at  Theodore's  thoughtful  face.  "No 
doubt  it  will  all  turn  out  right." 

This  conclusion  had  just  restored  Bin- 
riings  to  his  usual  cheerfulness,  when 
there  was  a  thundering  knock  at  the 
door,  which  Gideon  promptly  answered 


PRAYERS.  15? 

"Is  this  the  Blue  Flag?  Is  Binnings, 
a  one-legged  man,  here?" 

These  questions  were  eagerly  asked 
by  a  sea-worn  stranger,  who  spoke  like 
one  used  to  command. 

"He  is.  Do  you  want  to  see  him?" 
was  Gideon's  calm  reply. 

Binnings  by  this  time  was  at  the  door 
to  have  a  look  at  the  new-comer. 

Binnings  was  good  at  remembering 
faces,  but  no  associations  seemed  awak 
ened  as  his  eyes  met  those  fixed  upon 
him. 

"  Binnings,  I  suppose?"  was  the  stran 
ger's  word  of  inquiry. 

"Yes,  Binnings,  sir,"  said  Gideon, 
throwing  open  the  door  that  led  to  the 
sailors'  sitting-room,  and  then  retiring. 

The  crew  of  the  Bonnie  Jean  were 
locked  fast  in  their  slumbers;  so  Bin 
nings  and  his  visitor  had  the  room  to 
themselves. 


158  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"  Can  I  stay  here  to-night?"  said  the 
stranger,  who  seemed  to  deal  in  inter- 
rogatives. 

"Yes,  you  can,  just  here  on  that  sofa, 
if  you  '11  put  up  with  such  a  bed  as  that. 
We  are  full,  uncommonly  full,  to-night/7 
said  Binnings,  as  if  the  thought  gave  him 
great  pleasure. 

"  I  do  n't  care  where  I  lie ;  I  do  n't 
expect  to  sleep  much.  What  I  want  is 
to  get  rid  of  my  old  companions.  They  'd 
crowd  around  me  like  a  swarm  of  bees, 
if  they  knew  where  I  was.  Honest,  kind- 
hearted  fellows  too,  but  they  do  n't  suit 
me  just  now.  I  've  got  things  to  think 
about  that  they  can't  help  me  in.  You 
do  n't  know  me,  I  suppose,  Binnings." 

"I  don't,  I  own,"  was  the  short  an 
swer. 

"Well,  I'm  a  man  who  has  gone 
through  about  as  hard  a  way  of  life,  and 
swore  as  many  big  oaths  as  any  you 


PRAYERS.  159 

ever  saw.  Look  at  me.  Should  you 
think  I  was  used  to  praying?  May-be 
not.  But  that  's  what  I  've  been  at,  and 
I  mean  to  be  at.77 

"You  couldn't  be  in  better  business, 
whoever  you  are,  saint  or  sinner,"  said 
Binnings. 

"  Sinner,  sinner,  sure  enough.  Why, 
it  's  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  talk  to  you 
now  without  swearing ;  and  yet  I  tell  you 
every  oath  I  ever  spoke  lies  on  me  now 
like  a  hundred  weight  of  lead.  It's  as  if 
my  eyes  were  opened  to  see  what  I  Ve 
been  doing  all  my  life,  just  calling  down 
the  vengeance  of  heaven  on  my  wicked 
head,  that  deserved  it  enough  without 
asking  for  it." 

"It  's  a  pity  that  more  of  the  swearers 
do  n't  see  things  that  way,"  said  Binnings 
thoughtfully. 

"  May-be  my  eyes  would  n't  have  been 
opened  but  for  the  way  things  fell  out. 


160  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

You  see  I  'm  Captain  Hook  of  the  Bon 
nie  Jean.  May-be  you  7ve  heard  of  me.77 

"I  have,  many  a  time/7  said  Binnings 
in  surprise. 

"It's  likely  you  have  heard  people 
speak  well  of  me.  I  deserve  it,  in  a  cer 
tain  way.  I  have  always  looked  out  for 
the  interest  of  my  owners,  and  kept  things 
straight  aboard  ship.  I  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  7ve  felt  proud  before  now  to  hear  folks 
whisper,  as  I  went  along  the  wharves, 
'  That  7s  Captain  Hook  of  the  Bonnie 
Jean.7  I  knew  what  they  meant.  May 
be  they  7d  be  astonished  to  know  what  he 
thinks  of  himself  now.  You  know  about 
the  Bonnie  Jean;  I  ean7t  go  over  with 
it.  1 7d  sooner  have  seen  my  right  hand 
cut  off,  than  have  lost  such  a  vessel  as 
that,  swift  as  a  bird  and  sound  as  a  top. 
Glad  enough  was  every  soul  to  leave  her, 
but  one  young  man,  a  passenger.  He 
would  n't  set  foot  in  a  boat,  till  every- 


PRAYERS.  161 

body  else  was  safe  but  him  and  myself. 
He  had  no  relations  to  mourn  for  him, 
he  said,  and  it  was  as  easy  to  die  on  the 
sea  as  on  the  land ;  and  calm  as  a  sleep 
ing  baby's  face  he  looked,  when  even  an 
old  tough  one  like  me  was  all  in  a  shake. 
We  got  him  in  the  boat  though,  and  then 
says  I  to  the  fellows,  'Pull  out/  and  I 
swore  an  oath  I  shall  never  forget.  He 
laid  his  hand  on  my  arm,  that  young 
Parker,  and  said,  'Don't  pray  that  these 
poor  fellows  may  go  to  destruction ;  let 
us  all  pray  that  God  will  save  us  and 
bring  us  safe  to  land,  or  else  pardon  our 
sins  and  take  us  to  himself,  if  it  should 
please  him  to  call  us  now  into  his  pres 
ence.'  Then  it  struck  me  what  I  had 
been  doing  all  my  life,  just  praying  for 
the  eternal  ruin  of  myself  and  everybody 
else.  The  notion  stuck  to  me,  and  when 
the  boat  capsized  in  the  rollers,  I  thought 
my  prayer  was  going  to  be  answered  for 

Blue  Flag.  1 1 


162  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

myself,  as  it  was  for  too  many  poor 
wretches  who  went  down  before  my  very 
eyes.  I  can  see  their  looks  of  horror  now. 
I  can  see  the  awful  agony  in  their  poor 
desperate  faces.  Oh,  how  I  struggled  to 
reach  the  shore!  I  had  heard  Parker's 
calm  voice  say,  'Lord  Jesus,  receive  my 
spirit,7  as  the  boat  went  over.  He  knew 
he  had  no  strength  to  fight  through  such 
waves  as  those,  and  he  seemed  to  pass 
away  as  sweetly  as  if  he  fell  asleep.  I 
could  not  call  on  God  to  help  me ;  I  had 
prayed  too  many  times  for  my  own  de 
struction.  Yet  here  I  am,  as  miserable, 
distressed  a  creature  as  ever  saw  himself 
on  the  edge  of  the  pit  of  darkness,  and 
knew  not  which  way  to  turn.'7 

It  was  in  vain  that  Binnings  strove, 
by  prayer  with  the  agitated  man,  and  by 
the  most  tender  counsel,  to  induce  him 
to  turn  to  the  sinner's  only  hope.  The 
oaths  that  he  had  uttered  seemed  con- 


PRAYERS.  163 

tinually  ringing  in  his  ears  as  so  many 
petitions  for  his  own  destruction,  which 
were  too  surely  to  be  granted.  "You 
must  go  to  sleep,  Binnings,77  said  Captain 
Hook  at  last.  "I  shall  stay  here  and 
walk  the  room,  or  lie  down,  as  suits  me 
best.77 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  be  interrupted 
early  in  the  morning.  We  have  a  good 
many  of  the  sailors  from  the  Bonnie 
Jean  here  to-night.  They  turned  in 
soon  after  sunset,  and  they  wont  sleep 
late  to-morrow,'7  said  Binnings,  as  he  lin 
gered  on  the  threshold. 

" Sailors  from  the  Bonnie  Jean?77  said 
Captain  Hook  eagerly.  "Is  Theodore 
Grould  here?  I  heard  he  got  safe  to 
land.77 

"Here,  safe  and  sound,  sitting  by  the 
fire  in  the  other  part  of  the  house.  Do 
you  want  to  see  him?77  said  Binnings. 

"I7d  rather  see  him  than  any  man  I 


164  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

know.  There  7s  the  real  thing  in  him,  I 
am  sure  of  that,"  was  the  eager  answer. 

Theodore  was  not  long  in  obeying 
Binnings'  call. 

"Captain  Hook!"  he  exclaimed,  as  the 
agitated  face  of  the  captain  met  his  view. 
"Oh,  Captain  Hook,  I  am  so  glad  you 
are  in  the  land  of  the  living." 

There  was  a  solemnity  in  Theodore's 
manner,  as  he  took  the  captain  by  both 
hands,  that  was  well  understood. 

"You  were  afraid  I  had  lost  my 
chance,  and  had  gone  down  to  the  de 
struction  I  deserved,"  said  the  captain, 
with  an  eager,  questioning  look. 

"I  was,"  said  Theodore  gravely. 
"Thank  God,  you  are  still  on  this  side 
of  eternity." 

Binnings  quietly  moved  away,  and  left 
the  captain  and  the  young  sailor  togeth 
er.  They  talked  long  and  late ;  and 
when  Theodore  bade  good-night,  his 


PRAYERS.  165 

companion's  face  had  lost  some  of  its 
anxious  wildness. 

"I  will  persevere,  as  you  say.  I  wont 
give  up.  If  so  many  long  months  had 
to  pass  before  a  boy  like  you  could  shake 
off  the  horrors  of  his  old  ways,  a  har 
dened  sinner  like  me  can't  expect  to  be 
all  right  as  soon  as  he  turns  his  back  on 
the  track  he  has  been  following  so  long. 
Pray  for  me,  boy.  It  will  take  millions 
of  prayers  to  balance  all  the  times  I  Ve 
called  on  God  to  cast  me  into  that  most 
horrible  pit.  Pray  for  me.77 

Theodore  did  pray  that  night,  and 
many,  many  times  afterwards  for  the 
poor  wicked  man  who  was  groping  in 
darkness  towards  the  only  source  of 
light. 


166  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HOME. 

"  PERHAPS  he  wont  remember  the 
house.  Had  n't  I  better  hang  my  blue 
flag  out  the  front  window,  so  he  can  see 
it  clear  down  the  street?" 

Bob  Gould  was  walking  up  and  down 
his  mother's  parlor  in  a  state  of  eager 
impatience,  which  made  him  most  anx 
ious  to  be  doing  something  to  hasten  his 
brother's  arrival. 

"  Theodore  could  find  the  house  in  the 
dark,  I'll  venture/7  said  Ella,  smiling  at 
Bob's  proposal.  "You  may  hang  out 
the  blue  flag  though,  if  you  please,  as  a 
sign  of  welcome  to  sailors.'7 

It  took  Bob  some  time  to  hunt  up  his 
treasure,  and  to  nail  it  on  a  stick  long 
enough  to  reach  far  over  the  sidewalk. 


HOME.  167 

Ella  was  pleased  to  calm  in  any  way 
Bob's  restlessness,  which  she  knew  was 
wearing  upon  her  mother ;  and  she  was 
sorry  when  his  task  was  done,  for  he 
began  his  eager,  impatient  wishing  that 
Theodore  would  come,  if  he  was  coming, 
for  he  was  quite  tired  out  with  waiting. 

11  There  he  is,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Gould, 
as  she  caught  the  sound  of  approaching 
sleigh-bells,  which  had  escaped  the  ears 
of  her  children.  "I  know  the  bells.  Oh, 
Theodore."  Mrs.  Gould  rose  to  go  to 
the  door,  but  a  strange  faintness  came 
over  her,  and  Ella  had  to  support  her, 
as  she  stood  looking  eagerly  towards  the 
.entrance. 

It  suited  Bob  to  have  the  welcoming 
to  himself.  He  hugged  and  hurrahed, 
and  hurrahed  and  hugged,  till  Theodore 
was  obliged  to  run  up  the  steps  at  last, 
with  a  stout  little  boy  hanging  to  his 
neck,  as  if  he  had  grown  there. 


168  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Bob  dropped  off  suddenly,  however,  at 
the  door-sill,  as  he  saw  the  driver  hand 
ing  out  a  miniature  ship,  full-rigged,  and 
waiting  for  somebody  to  claim  it  as  be 
longing  to  his  young  passenger,  who  had 
brought  it  as  his  only  baggage. 

While  Bob  was  doing  this  office,  The 
odore  entered  the  house  alone.  Ah,  how 
it  smote  his  heart  to  see  the  change  his 
absence  had  wrought  in  his  mother. 

" Mother,  dear  mother,  forgive  me,77 
he  exclaimed,  as  he  folded  her  in  his 
arms. 

"My  dear,  dear  son,"  were  the  only 
words  she  uttered,  and  then  her  head 
drooped  upon  his  shoulder  in  a  long  and 
tender  embrace. 

"God  has  been  very  good  to  me/7  she 
murmured,  when  she  raised  her  face  to 
look  earnestly  into  his.  "And  Ella  too ; 
you  do  n't  know  what  a  comfort  she  has 
been  to  me." 


HOME.  169 

"  You  have  done  all  you  could  to  com 
fort  mother  in  the  trouble  I  have  caused 
her,  and  how  I  thank  you  for  it,"  said 
Theodore,  as  he  tenderly  kissed  his  sis 
ter. 

/'Whose  is  this?  where  did  it  come 
from?"  said  Bob,  entering  the  room,  with 
the  ship  raised  high  in  his  hands. 

"It  is  yours,  Bob;  Binnings  made  it 
for  you.  You  know  Binnings,77  said  The 
odore,  with  a  smile. 

"Know  Binnings?     To  be  sure  I  do." 

"We  all  know  Binnings,77  joined  in 
Mrs.  Gould,  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 
"His  is  a  noble  work.77 

"And  there  is-  some  one  I  know,  who 
helps  him  in  it.  I  am  glad  you  love  the 
sailors,  mother,77  said  Theodore;  "they 
need  help  to  keep  them  right.77 

"I  love  my  sailor-son,77  said  Mrs.  Gould, 
with  a  fond  look  at  the  tall,  manly  tar 
who  stood  at  her  side. 


110  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

That  was  a  blessed,  happy  evening  at 
Mrs.  Gould's ;  yet  Theodore  retired  with 
an  anxious,  thoughtful  heart. 

His  mother's  joy  at  his  return,  and  the 
clinging  love  with  which  she  turned  to 
him,  forgetting  and  forgiving  all  the 
past,  suggested  a  painful  question  to  his 
mind. 

Ought  he  not  to  give  up  the  path  he 
had  chosen?  Ought  he  not  to  stay  with 
the  mother  by  whom  he  was  so  tenderly 
beloved,  and  who  had  borne  and  suffered 
so  much  for  him?  It  cost  Theodore  some 
wakeful  hours  of  thought  and  earnest 
prayer,  before  he  could  calmly  form  his 
answer.  His  decision  was  taken  at  last. 
Dear  as  was  to  him  the  path  of  useful 
ness  he  had  chosen  for  himself,  he  would 
give  it  up.  His  mother  should  not  lack, 
in  her  old  age,  the  sustaining  arm  of  a 
son.  He  whom  she  had  wept  as  lost, 
should  be  restored  to  her,  to  be  her  stay 


HOME.  171 

and  prop,  as  she  went  down  the  vale  of 
years. 

Self  thus  conquered,  Theodore  could 
fall  asleep  with  the  sweet  assurance  that, 
should  he  know  no  earthly  waking,  his 
last  purpose  would  have  been  to  keep 
"the  commandment  with  promise.77 

If  Theodore,  before  his  departure,  had 
been  a  hero  to  Bob,  he  was  now  looked 
up  to  with  a  double  share  of  veneration. 
A  brother  who  had  seen  and  undergone 
so  much,  was  not  to  be  viewed  as  an  ordi 
nary  man. 

Day  after  day  had  passed,  and  yet 
Theodore  had  still  something  interesting 
to  tell  to  the  eager  group  at  the  fireside. 
Ella  and  Bob  had  heard  of  the  wonders 
he  had  seen  by  sea  and  land;  but  the 
better,  more  important  story  of  his  inner 
life  was  breathed  in  his  mother's  ear 
alone.  She  had  wept  tears  of  sympathy, 
of  pity,  joy,  and  thanksgiving,  as  she 


172  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

heard  how  her  dear  son  was  led  along 
the  valley  of  humiliation  until,  feeling 
himself  utterly  nothing,  he  could  yet  re 
joice  in  his  full  sonship  in  the  heavenly 
kingdom,  through  the  all-prevailing  mer 
its  of  his  crucified  Elder  Brother. 

Theodore  had  concealed  nothing  from 
the  one  who  loved  him  best.  His  degra 
dation  and  the  deep  purpose  of  his  re 
newed  life  to  devote  himself  to  the  work 
of  God  among  sailors,  were  alike  made 
known  to  her,  and  yet  his  future  was 
not  named. 

"When  are  you  going  to  sea  again, 
Theodore?" 

This  question  Mrs.  Gould  tremblingly 
asked  one  morning.  The  fact  she  had 
taken  for  granted ;  the  time  alone  re 
mained  uncertain. 

"I  have  given  up  the  sailor's  life, 
mother,"  was  Theodore's  answer. 

He  would  not  name  the  motive  that 


HOME.  173 

had  prompted  him,  lest  it  should  seem 
like  boasting  of  the  sacrifice  he  had 
made. 

Why  was  it  that  Mrs.  Gould,  who  had 
trembled  the  moment  before  at  the  thought 
of  parting,  now  felt  a  shadow  sweep  over 
her  heart  at  the  words  of  her  son? 

"Have  you  given  up  your  noble  reso 
lution?  Are  you  not  to  be  the  messen 
ger  of  God's  truth,  and  the  faithful  evi 
dence  of  the  power  of  the  same,  by  a  holy, 
consistent  life?  Are  you  faint-hearted, 
Theodore?  Do  you  fear  the  temptations 
of  a  sailor's  life  ?" 

Quick  and  searching  came  the  mother's 
questions. 

Her  son  had  no  coward,  ease-loving 
heart  to  shrink  from  a  reply.  He  ten 
derly  put  his  arm  about  her,  as  he  said, 
"Dear  mother,  I  have  caused  you  too 
many  anxious  hours  to  try  you  any  more. 
I  want  to  be  your  stay  and  comfort. 


174  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

You  need  some  one  to  lean  on.  I  will 
not  leave  you  again.  I  can  be  useful  on 
shore,  if  ray  heart  is  right.  God  knows 
I  do  not  shrink  from  the  path  of  my 
choice  ;  but  my  duty  to  you  has  the 
highest,  dearest  claim.7' 

"  I  can  lean  on  the  widow's  God,  who 
has  hitherto  sustained  me.  I  will  not 
keep  you,  my  son,  from  the  path  for  which 
you  are  specially  prepared.  God  gave 
you  a  love  for  the  sea,  that  makes  its 
life  of  hardship  a  pleasure  to  you.  He 
has  trained  and  fashioned  you  as  an  in 
strument  for  a  peculiar  work.  He  has 
given  you  the  deep-seated  wish  and  pur 
pose  to  labor  for  his  children  who  'go 
down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  and  behold  his 
wonders  in  the  great  waters.7  My  heart 
clings  to  the  sailors7  cause.  I  believe 
the  time  will  come,  when  every  white- 
winged  ship  shall  be  a  messenger  of  peace 
and  a  house  of  prayer;  and  when  our 


HOME.  115 

seamen  shall  be  a  self-sustaining  band  of 
missionaries,  living  and  dying  among  un 
godly  men  and  heathen  nations,  as  a  per 
petual  wonder-working  proof  of  the  power 
of  the  religion  of  Christ.  Go,  my  son, 
and  your  mother's  blessing  shall  be  with 
you,  and  your  mother's  prayers  shall  per 
petually  ascend  to  the  God  of  heaven, 
that  he  may  make  you  an  instrument  of 
much  good  to  many  souls.  Let  us 
pray.7' 

Encircled  by  each  other's  loving  arms, 
the  mother  and  son  knelt  down  together, 
while  Mrs.  Gould  offered  unto  the  Lord 
her  best  earthly  treasure  as  a  free  gift  to 
the  cause  that  she  loved.  She  cast  her 
self  on  the  sustaining  arm  of  the  Al 
mighty,  while  she  consecrated  to  his  ser 
vice  the  son  on  whom  she  might  have 
leaned  too  fondly,  if  he  had  been  left  at 
her  side,  that  she  might  twine  around 
him  her  clinging  heart-strings. 


116  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Who  could  doubt  that  a  work  so  be 
gun  would  be  blessed  and  prospered? 
Who  could  doubt  that  Theodore  Gould 
would  go  forth  to  sow  the  good  seed,  and 
reap  an  abundant  harvest? 


A  VISIT.  117 


CHAPTEE   XXIII. 

A  VISIT. 

THEODORE  was  not  to  be  allowed  to 
forget  his  promised  visit  at  Mr.  Deland's. 
A  letter,  dictated  by  Benny,  and  written 
by  his  mother's  hand,  came  to  urge  the 
prompt  fulfilment  of  his  promise. 

Benny's  pleading  earnestness,  and  the 
warm  seconding  of  his  invitation  in  Mrs. 
D eland's  postscript,  were  not  to  be  dis 
regarded. 

Of  course  Mrs.  Gould  and  Ella  unself 
ishly  gave  their  consent.  Bob  would 
have  stood  out  stoutly  for  his  right  to  be 
within  hearing  of  his  brother's  words 
during  every  moment  of  his  stay  on  land, 
if  Benny  had  been  a  healthy  boy  like 
himself ;  but  the  merry  little  fellow  drew 
his  hand  across  his  moist  eyes  as  he 

Blue  Flag.  12 


178  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

thought  of  poor  Benny  unable  to  run  or 
play,  and  he  declared  at  once  that  Theo 
dore  ought  to  go  to  him,  if  he  had  to  walk 
through  snow  up  to  his  neck  to  reach 
him.  No  such  perils,  however,  were  in 
store  for  Theodore  on  his  way  to  Mr. 
Deland's. 

The  bright  light  from  the  drawing- 
room  windows,  and  the  sudden  ceasing 
of  the  sound  of  the  sleigh-bells,  surprised 
Theodore  with  the  announcement  that  his 
pleasant  journey  was  over.  The  door 
seemed  to  open  of  itself,  as  for  an  ex 
pected  guest,  and  Theodore  was  shaken 
warmly  by  the  hand  and  led  into  the 
drawing-room  before  he  could  get  over 
the  confusion  of  the  sudden  change  from 
the  darkness  without  to  the  cheerful  light 
within. 

Mrs.  DelamTs  greeting  was  affection 
ate,  but  hasty,  as  if  she  were  unwilling 
to  keep  Theodore  a  moment  from  the 


A  VISIT.  179 

little  arms  that  were  outstretched  tow 
ards  him. 

"Dear  Theodore,"  said  Benny,  as  he 
was  folded  close  to  the  heart  that  loved 
him  so  well.  "Put  me  on  the  couch  now ; 
I  want  to  look  at  you/7  he  soon  added; 
then,  after  a  long  fond  gaze  at  his  friend, 
he  said  triumphantly, 

"My  father  said  he  should  be  proud 
of  just  such  a  son  as  you  are.  He  was 
not  disappointed  in  you,  Theodore ;  and 
yet,  and  yet,  he  said  he  loved  me  best.77 

"And  who  would  n't?"  said  Theodore 
warmly.  "You  are  worth  a  hundred 
such  great  flesh-and-blood  fellows  as  I 
am.  Never  mind,  we  wont  talk  any 
more  about  that.  I  want  to  give  you 
the  books  my  brother  Bob  would  send 
you,  though  I  told  him  you  had  a  whole 
library  of  your  own.  He  said  that  did 
not  make  any  difference,  so  long  as  you 
had  n7t  any  books  that  Bob  Grould  gave 


180  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

you.  He  stuffed  my  pockets  with  them, 
so  you  may  put  in  your  hands  and  pull 
them  out  yourself.'7 

It  was  a  pleasant  task  to  Benny  to 
thrust  his  hands  deep  in  the  pockets  of 
the  shaggy  overcoat,  to  bring  out,  now  a 
Robinson  Crusoe,  then  a  United  States 
Speaker ;  now  a  new  Bible,  then  a  gay 
picture-book.  Bob  had  expended  all  his 
hoarded  pocket-money,  intended  to  pur 
chase  a  suit  of  fireman's  clothes,  to  buy 
Benny's  present.  Bob  would  have  felt 
quite  satisfied  with  his  investment,  if  he 
could  have  seen  Benny's  pleasure  as  book 
after  book  was  drawn  out. 

"Now  take  off  your  coat,  Theodore, 
and  let  us  see  you  looking  as  if  you  were 
at  home,"  said  Mrs.  Deland,  when  the 
unloading  was  fairly  over. 

At  home  Theodore  certainly  did  feel 
at  Mr.  Deland's.  There  was  a  glow  of 
kindly  hospitality  about  the  place  that 


A  VISIT.  181 

had  cheered  many  a  stranger,  and  now  no 
means  were  left  untried  to  render  Theo 
dore's  visit  agreeable. 

The  three  days  of  his  allotted  stay  had 
slipped  rapidly  by,  and  there  was  no  per 
suading  the  young  sailor  to  protract  any 
longer  his  absence  from  the  mother  who 
had  so  unselfishly  spared  him  from  her 
side. 

"Then  you  will  insist  upon  leaving  us 
to-morrow  morning?"  said  Mr.  Deland, 
drawing  his  chair  towards  the  table  at 
which  Theodore  was  sitting. 

Benny  was  in  his  father's  arms,  and 
his  earnest  eyes  silently  repeated  the 
question. 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  must  leave 
you  all,  but  I  shall  never  forget  the  kind 
ness  I  have  received  under  this  roof," 
said  Theodore,  his  face  kindling  with 
feeling. 

"  Theodore,"   said   Mr.   Deland,    evi- 


182  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

dently  carrying  out  a  train  of  thought 
that  had  been  in  his  mind,  "I  saw  Cap 
tain  Hook  to-day." 

"Did  you,  sir?  Is  he  quite  settled  on 
the  right  side?"  asked  Theodore  eagerly. 

"The  poor  man  is  l faint,  yet  pursuing.' 
His  mind  is  all  confusion,  and  he  cannot 
yet  believe  that  one  who  has  so  taken  the 
name  of  God  in  yain,  can  taste  his  free 
forgiveness.  Yet  upon  one  thing  he  is 
determined :  he  will  lead  a  different  life ; 
he  will  not  wilfully  lay  up  further  con 
demnation  for  himself.  I  have  confi 
dence  in  him.  He  did  his  best  about  the 
'Bonnie  Jean,7  and  I  am  going  to  give 
him  the  command  of  a  new  ship,  that  is 
to  sail  to  the  Mediterranean  on  her  first 
voyage  two  months  from  this  time.  He 
wants  a  mate  to  go  with  him,  he  says, 
who  is  a  Christian  man;  one  who  will 
lend  his  influence  in  his  ship  for  the  good 
cause ;  one  who  will  be  willing  to  gather 


A  VISIT.  183 

the  men  around  him  for  prayers,  and 
teach  them  Sabbath  hymns  of  praise,  to 
take  the  place  of  the  coarse  songs  with 
which  they  so  often  desecrate  the  sacred 
day  of  rest.  He  wants  some  one  who 
will  help  him  to  see  his  own  way  clear 
as  a  Christian ;  some  one  who  has  passed 
through  hours  of  despair,  and  now  tastes 
the  blessedness  of  a  heavenly  Father's 
reconciled  countenance.  He  wants  you, 
Theodore,  as  his  mate.  Will  you  go  with 
him  ?  Will  you  help  the  repentant  man 
in  his  struggles  towards  a  better  course?" 

"With  all  my  heart/7  said  Thqodore 
warmly,  as  he  took  Mr.  D  eland's  offered 
hand.  "I  understand  you,  sir,  and  you 
have  my  deepest  gratitude.77 

"The  ship  is  named  the  ' Benny  De- 
land.7  It  is  called  after  me.  You  will 
like  to  sail  in  her,  I  know,  Theodore/7 
said  Benny,  his  face  lighting  with  one  of 
his  own  sweet  smiles. 


184  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

"  Indeed  I  shall ;  and  I  shall  try  to  be 
sailing  straight  for  the  harbor  where  my 
dear  Benny  is  bound.  There'll  be  a 
blessing  on  that  ship,  I  am  sure." 

"I  believe  there  will/7  said  Benny 
softly.  "T  have  asked  God  so  many 
times  to  send  his  Spirit  to  all  who  shall 
sail  in  her,  that  I  am  sure  he  will.  You 
know  he  promises  his  Holy  Spirit  to  them 
that  ask  him.77 

"Yes,  and  we  must  act  as  well  as 
pray,"  said  Mr.  Deland.  "Theodore, 
what  can  I  provide  you  with,  to  help 
you  in  your  labors  for  the  good  of  the 
crew?77 

"May  I  give  you  the  whole  list?77  said 
Theodore,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"Yes,  and  let  it  be  as  long  as  you 
please,77  was  the  encouraging  reply. 

"I  will  begin  with  a  great  Bible,  for 
the  cabin-table,  open  to  all;  then,  any 
quantity  you  please  of  Bibles,  Testaments, 


A  VISIT.  185 

tracts,  and  good  books,  in  any  or  all  of 
ihe  modern  languages;  and  if  it  is  not 
too  much  to  ask,  some  books  of  travels, 
and  a  set  of  maps  pasted  on  bookbind 
er's  board,  would  be  a  valuable  addition. 
It  would  keep  the  fellows  out  of  mischief 
to  have  the  maps  to  gather  round.  I  can 
see  a  cluster  of  them  now,  pointing  their 
eager  fingers  here  and  there,  and  tracing 
out  their  wanderings  to  their  comrades." 

"Are  you  going  to  teach  modern  lan 
guages — French  and  Italian,  I  suppose 
you  mean?"  said  Benny,  gravely. 

"  French  and  Italian,  German,  Spanish, 
or  Swedish,  whatever  you  please ;  but  I 
do  n't  mean  to  turn  teacher,  excepting  of 
the  truth,  the  blessed  truth,  Benny.  I 
want  good  books  to  suit  sailors  of  all  na 
tions,  and  landsmen  too.  When  we  come 
into  port,  and  have  scores  of  visitors,  we 
wont  pass  round  the  bottle,  but  every 
body  who  comes  on  board  the  Benny 


186  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Deland,  shall  go  off  with  a  precious  little 
book  in  his  hand.  Is  n't  that  the  way  to 
do  on  board  your  namesake  ?77 

"The  very  way,  and  the  right  way,77 
said  Mr.  Deland,  finishing  the  notes  in 
his  memorandum-book,  as  he  spoke. 

1 '  I  like  the  way  you  do  every  thing,  The 
odore,77  said  Benny  affectionately;  "you 
enter  into  things  with  all  your  heart.77 

1  c  You  cannot  think  how  happy  it  makes 
me,  Benny,  to  have  a  prospect  of  carry 
ing  out  my  favorite  plans.  I  owe  you 
more  than  I  can  tell,  Mr.  Deland,77  said 
Theodore,  earnestly. 

"It  makes  me  happy  to  have  such 
hints  about  furnishing  a  ship.  I  shall 
not  forget  it  hereafter.  Would  to  God 
that  I,  as  an  owner,  had  not  so  long  neg 
lected  this  matter,77  said  Mr.  Deland, 
gravely. 

"Father,  may  I  write  the  name  in  the 
big  Bible  ?77  asked  Benny. 


A  VISIT.  187 

"  Indeed  you  shall,  my  boy.  You 
shall  do  all  for  the  Benny  D  eland  that 
your  heart  prompts  you." 

"Then  I  will  see  that  she  has  plenty 
of  the  best  of  books,  and  when  I  am  gone 
from  this  world,  perhaps  she  will  be  sail 
ing,  sailing  on,  carrying  the  good  news 
wherever  she  goes.  Perhaps  I  shall 
meet  somebody  in  heaven,  who  learned 
the  way  there  on  board  the  Benny  De- 
land.  Would  n't  that  be  pleasant!" 

Benny's  face  was  bright  with  a  beau 
tiful  light  as  he  spoke.  The  thought  of 
death  was  so  familiar  to  him,  that  he 
talked  of  it  as  cheerfully  as  of  the  com 
ing  pleasures  of  the  morrow. 

"  Yes,  may  the  Benny  Deland  be  in 
deed  a  messenger  of  good.  May  the 
peculiar  blessing  of  Glod  rest  upon  her 
captain,  mates,  and  crew,77  said  Mr.  De- 
land,  solemnly. 

"Amen,77  "Amen,"  "Amen.77 


188  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Thrice  the  words  were  spoken,  by 
three  voices,  in  the  deep  sincerity  of 
praying  hearts. 

So  it  was  decided  how  and  where  The 
odore  Gould  should  start  on  his  new 
career. 


CONCLUSION.  189 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

WE  cannot  trace  Theodore  Gould 
through  the  various  partings  and  reun 
ions,  the  perils  and  escapes,  the  labors 
and  the  blessings  on  these  labors,  which 
were  his  lot  during  twenty  years  of  life 
on  the  sea. 

We  must  let  twice  ten  years  slip  away, 
ere  we  again  look  in  upon  our  friends 
who  are  knit  together  by  a  common  in 
terest  in  the  "Blue  Flag,"  and  the  sail 
ors'  cause. 

The  spot  where  Jennet  had  stood  with 
her  pitcher,  and  cast  her  first  sorrowful 
look  at  Binnings,  was  greatly  changed. 
There  was  no  corner-pump  now.  The 
steep  descent  where  Gideon  and  Jennet 
had  once  loved  to  scramble  down  to  the 
• 


190  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

shore  in  front  of  their  mother's  house, 
was  all  levelled  and  graded.  Wharves 
had  crept  along  the  shore,  until  they 
had  passed  Jack  Coney's  lot,  and  curved 
around  the  turn  in  the  bay  beyond  it. 

As  for  the  house  itself,  it  had  moved 
away  on  rollers  years  ago,  and  found  a 
new  resting-place  in  one  of  the  suburbs 
of  the  growing  city.  Half  a  dozen  fam 
ilies  lived  in  it  now,  and  dirty  children 
ranged  their  mud-pies  on  what  had  once 
been  Mrs.  Coney's  spotless  door-step. 

And  was  Mrs.  Coney,  houseless  and 
homeless,  standing  like  a  monument  of 
the  past  on  the  site  of  her  old  home 
stead? 

Ah,  no.  Jack  Coney's  lot  was  covered 
by  a  great  three -story  brick  building, 
that  was  "-neat  as  wax,"  both  outside 
and  in,  from  garret  to  cellar.  There 
Mrs.  Coney  found  a  sphere  sufficiently 
large  for  the  exercise  of  her  energy  and 


CONCLUSION.  191 

her  kindliness,  which  seemed  to  have  in 
creased  with  her  increasing  years.  Time 
sat  lightly  upon  her,  for  Christian  chari 
ty,  Christian  cheerfulness,  and  Christian 
trust,  are  wonderful  antidotes  against  the 
ugly  lines  of  age.  Mother  Coney,  as  the 
sailors  loved  to  call  her,  had  her  friends 
and  well-wishers  in  every  part  of  the 
world. 

A  blue  flag  waved  as  cheerily  from  the 
great  three-story  building  as  it  had  done 
from  the  humbler  dwelling,  and  the  name 
"Binnings"  over  the  wide  doorway  was 
a  standing  invitation  to  the  hundreds  of 
seamen  who  had  learned  to  know  and 
love  the  whole-hearted  old  sailor. 

There  was  no  Jennet  Coney  now.  Yet 
there  was  a  Jennet  who  said  she  had  first 
been  related  to  the  tars  by  blood,  but 
was  now  related  to  them  by  marriage. 
She  had  her  own  Jack  on  the  sea  to 
think  about  on  stormy  nights,  and  to 


192  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

pray  for  through  the  long  day,  a  fact 
that  made  her  none  the  less  active  and 
loving  as  an  assistant  in  the  good  work 
to  which  her  mother  was  devoted. 

Grideon  had  his  hands  full  too ;  he  was 
one  moment  in  the  office  posting  his 
books,  the  next  at  the  market  buying 
provisions,  and  the  next  in  the  sick 
room,  where  some  poor  sufferer  was 
blessing  the  hour  when  in  his  afflictions 
he  had  found  a  home  at  the  Blue  Flag. 

But  where  was  Binnings?  It  is  sunset 
now,  and  we  may  not  look  for  him  on 
land  one  moment  after  the  sun  dips  be 
hind  the  western  sky.  Lying  at  anchor, 
a  stone's  throw  from  the  Blue  Flag,  is  an 
odd-looking  craft.  She  is  neither  ship, 
schooner,  nor  brig,  sloop,  bark,  nor 
steamer;  she  carries  neither  mast  nor 
smoke-pipe,  sail  nor  banner;  yet  she  is 
dearer  to  many  an  honest  tar  than  the 
vessel  in  which  he  took  his  first  voyage, 


CONCLUSION.  193 

or  that  which  he  now  commands.  There 
are  associations  hovering  about  her  which 
link  him  to  the  better  haven  he  hopes  to 
reach,  when  he  has  done  with  the  buffet- 
ings  of  time  and  stands  safe  on  the 
Shining  Shore. 

A  floating  " House  of  Prayer:77  this 
was  the  name  Binnings  had  given  it,  and 
it  was  as  dear  to  him  now  as  the  Blue 
Flag  that  still  fluttered  its  welcome  to 
the  men  of  the  sea. 

On  the  stern  of  the  odd-looking  thing 
was  Binnings7  favorite  seat  at  evening. 
There  we  may  find  him  counting  his 
mercies,  numberless  in  his  eyes  as  the 
shining  crests  of  the  little  waves  that  are 
coming  up  to  be  tipped  by  the  sunset 
glow.  There  is  a  dip  of  oars,  and  a 
boat  darts  to  the  side  of  the  "  House  of 
Prayer.77 

A  tall  sun-burnt  man  springs  on  board, 
and,  " Binnings!7'  " Captain  Gould!"  are 

Blue  Flag.  1 3 


194  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

exclaimed  by  the  two  at  their  joyous 
meeting. 

Many  times  had  Binnings  and  Theo 
dore  Gould  met,  since  Captain  Hook  had 
gone  rejoicing  to  his  last  home,  and  the 
Benny  Deland  had  fallen  to  the  care  of 
his  highly  prized  mate.  They  had  met 
to  strengthen  each  other's  hands,  and 
encourage  each  others  hearts,  in  the 
good  work  to  which  they  were  both 
pledged. 

Binnings  dearly  loved  a  talk  with  Cap 
tain  Grould,  and  the  easy  swinging  motion 
of  the  anchored  craft  seemed  to  assist 
the  flow  of  their  conversation.  He  de 
clared  that  he  had  always  hated  the  stiff 
feeling  of  a  still  floor  under  his  feet,  and 
it  was  a  comfort  to  tread  every  evening 
a  living  thing,  that  could  dance  on  the 
waves  as  cheerily  as  a  mermaid. 

"  How  is  Bob  getting  on  with  the  sail 
ors?"  was  Captain  Gould's  first  question, 


CONCLUSION.  195 

after  he  had  taken  the  seat  that  had  been 
offered  him. 

"The  Eev.  Eobert  Gould  is  just  the 
man  for  us,"  said  Binnings  heartily.  "  I 
call  him  Bob  too,  sometimes ;  I  can't  help 
it.  But  when  he  gets  up  there  in  the 
pulpit,  he  seems  like  another  man — -just  as 
kind,  just  as  free,  but  so  solemn,  as  sol 
emn  as  if  he  had  seen  the  Lord  face  to 
face,  like  Moses.  He  knows  how  to  deal 
with  sailors.  As  sure  as  any  body  gets 
sleepy,  and  the  poor  fellows  do  nod  some 
times,  then  Master  Bob  comes  out  with 
something  unexpected,  one  of  his  sudden 
sayings,  that  wakes  them  right  up  at 
once;  and  then  he's  down  with  a  real 
searcher,  that  takes  hold  of  them  and 
keeps  them  awake  body  and  soul.  Per 
haps  he  calls  out,  "All  hands  on  deck!" 
and  then,  when  every  body  has  started 
up  to  listen,  he'll  tell  them  about  the 
great  Captain  summoning  every  man  of 


196  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

them  to  do  His  will ;  and  then  turn  all 
at  once  to  the  day  when  there  shall  be 
another  call,  from  the  awful  trumpet,  and 
the  dead  shall  stand  before  the  great 
White  Throne.  I've  seen  the  hardest 
old  fellows  shed  tears  like  a  child,  when 
he  talks  to  them  about  the  love  of  Jesus. 
It  seems  as  if  he  got  close  to  their  hearts, 
and  waked  up  all  there  is  tender  in  them. 
He  has  an  uncommon  gift  for  preaching 
to  sailors.  It's  queer,  Captain  Grould, 
how  your  family  love  the  seafaring  folks, 
and  care  for  them,  each  in  a  particular 
way.  There 's  nobody  like  your  mother 
and  your  sister  for  remembering  what  we 
want  at  the  Blue  Flag,  excepting,  may 
be,  Mrs.  Deland.  Her  whole  soul  seems 
to  be  gone  to  doing  good,  ever  since  that 
dear  boy  died." 

"Dear  Benny,"  said  Captain  Gould, 
with  a  springing  tear.  "He  's  a  spur  to 
all  of  us  to  remember  our  heavenly  call- 


CONCLUSION.  19t 

ing,  and  work  for  our  Master  while  we 
can.  I  feel  sure  the  precious  child's 
prayers  have  called  down  a  double  bless 
ing  on  the  Benny  Deland.  I  've  good 
news  to  tell  you  from  my  men.  We  have 
had  the  Lord  with  us  in  the  ship;  and 
when  these  poor  fellows  cried,  '  Save,  or 
we  perish,'  he  heard  them  and  blessed 
them  with  his  grace,  saying,  '  Peace,  be 
still.'  The  Benny  Deland  has  been  a 
'house  of  prayer'  too,  Binnings,  and  I 
hope  to  be  herg  at  communion  next  Sun 
day,  with  six  as  sincere  beginners  in  the 
Christian  course  as  I  have  ever  known." 
"  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me,77  said 
Binnings,  solemnly.  "How  many  years 
it  was  before  even  good  folks  thought 
that  sailors  needed  to  keep  that  com 
mand,  as  well  as  any  body  else.  The 
dear  Lord  Jesus  is  bringing  all  right. 
May  he  soon  come  in  his  glory,  to  claim 
the  'abundance  of  the  sea'  as  his  own." 


198  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

Captain  Gould  gave  a  hearty  response 
to  Binnings7  pious  ejaculation.  After 
some  further  chat,  he  took  the  honest 
old  sailor  by  the  hand,  and  bade  him 
good-evening,  and  was  away  over  the 
water  to  his  own  good  ship. 

Binnings  followed  the  little  boat  with 
loving  eyes,  and  then  said  aloud,  "  Just 
like  himself;  humble  to  take  orders  from 
his  heavenly  Master,  and  firm  to  give 
orders  to  his  men ;  free  to  take  the  Lord's 
forgiveness  for  his  own  sips,  and  just  as 
free  to  spread  the  good  news  to  all  he 
meets,  to  the  unthankful  as  well  as  to 
the  grateful,  sinner;  a  good  captain,  a 
good  Christian,  a  good,  faithful,  hard 
working,  heaven-blessed  friend  of  the 
sailor.  May  the  Lord  reward  him  a 
hundred-fold.77 

Binnings  had  his  own  quiet  room, 
where  he  could  act  as  a  guardian  to  the 
vessel  so  precious  to  him,  and  at  the 


CONCLUSION.  199 

same  time  be  rocked  to  sleep  by  the  mo 
tion  which  pleased  him  best.  His  hour 
for  retiring  was  now  drawing  near,  and 
this  thought  led  him  into  a  train  of  char 
acteristic  meditations.  "It7s  a  tender 
little  mercy  from  the  hand  of  the  Lord, 
who  cares  for  us  in  our  least  mercies  as 
in  our  greatest,  to  let  an  old  fellow  like 
me  have  his  whim  gratified,  and  lie  down 
to  rest  like  a  sailor.  How  wonderful  too, 
that  he  should  let  me  be  helping  on  the 
sailors7  cause,  in  spite  of  my  bodily  in 
firmity!7' 

This  recalling  of  Binnings7  "  bodily 
infirmity,77  set  him  to  tracing  the  gentle 
leading  of  Providence,  that  had  guided 
him  along  his  earthly  path,  and  allowed 
him  to  start  a  good  work  that  should  live 
on  when  its  founder  was  no  more.  "The 
Blue  Flag  will  wave  when  I  am  gone, 
and  the  House  of  Prayer  will  float  when 
I  am  sleeping  low.  Mr.  D eland  and  the 


200  THE  BLUE  FLAG. 

good  men  who  have  joined  with  him  will 
see  to  that.  The  Lord  himself  will  take 
care  of  his  own  cause,  even  as  he  has 
taken  care  of  poor  Binnings,  and  filled 
his  heart  with  thanksgiving." 

Such  thoughts  lingered  in  Binnings7 
mind  till  sleep  stole  gently  over  him, 
bringing  dreams  of  the  heavenly  king 
dom  where  he  soon  should  rejoice  in 
glory. 

The  quiet  night  hung  over  the  floating 
House  of  Prayer,  and  darkness  wrap 
ped  the  Blue  Flag ;  but  the  best  Friend 
of  the  sailor  was  watching  over  all  with 
a  sleepless  eye.  The  almighty  arm  was 
stretched  out  to  save  on  the  great  deep, 
and  to  preserve  on  the  land.  His  loving 
guardianship  is  ever  on  sea  and  shore, 
and  his  blessing  descending  on  all  who 
labor  to  bring  home  the  lost  sheep  to  the 
heavenly  fold. 


